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Cuentos Ticos 





Short Stories of Costa Rica 
By 


Ricardo Ferndndez Guardia 


The Translation and Introductory 
Sketch by Gray Casement 


Cleveland 
The Burrows Brothers Company 
Publishers 


1905 


Copyright, 1904, by Gray Cas—EMENT 
Set up and electrotyped 
November, 1904 
All rights reserved 


First Edition 


BOSTON 
A. M. SKINNER & CO. PRINTERS 


(eB ANG | BRAKY 
Contents 

A Central American Arcadia . I 
# El Estreno (The Debut) , 75 
4x Un Héroe(A Hero) . Se Te: 

%< Un Santo Milagroso (A Miraculous 
Saint). ; eae Hh 
La Politica (Politics) . ; isis 9. 
3 Hidalguia (Chivalry). ies 450, 
La Botija (The Buried Treasure) . 203 


El] Ahorcado (The Hanged Man) . 221 
Un Espadachin (A Swordsman) . 235 


Los Gatos Demoniacos (The Be- 
devilled Cats) . ; 2 248 


MEE Clavel (The Pink) .  . «259 





Illustrations 


PAGE 
A Vista of San José : : ° . Frontispiece 
Port Limon , ‘ : - ; 5 
Calle de la Estacion or Satna Sivenk ; ; : 9 
In the National Park, San José . , ‘ ; 9 
Street Scene in San José . ; ; 13 
Soldiers Drilling in the Plaza de ‘Artifleria ‘ ‘ 17 
Soldiers Ready to Start for the Nicaraguan Frontier 20 
A Street in San José ‘ ; . : : 21 
View of the **Liceo’’ and the Normal College. 24 
On the Costa Rica Railway 5 ; 27 
Rio Grande Bridge Nearing Cronpiecton : : 31 
The Rio Grande Bridge, Pacific Railroad. , 32 
Heavy Work on the Pacific Railroad . , ‘ 33 
A Fill on the Pacific Railroad . : ; 35 
Rio Grande Bridge During Construction . 37 


Crossing the Rio Grande by Cable Before =n 
Completion of the Bridge. : ; ‘ 41 


A Railroad Camp in the Mountains. , ; 45 
Some of the Pacific Railroad Builders . ; 49 
The National Theatre. , ‘ : ; 53 
A Wild Valley. Sean. ; ; ay knee ¥°; 
A Residence in San José . F : : ; 59 
A Coffee Beneficio Near San José. : ; 61 


A Street Scene, San José . ‘ : ; ; 65 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


The Bank of Costa Rica 


A Banana Plantation ; : : : me 


In the Central Park, San José ; ; 
The Bishop’s Palace : . . : 
In the Patio of a Private Redden 

Church of La Soledad 

San José from the «* Cuesta de Moras ”’ 

A Military Review 

A Religious Possession 

Veterans of the War with Walker 

A Humble Funeral 

An Old Stone Bridge - 

Oxcarts Loaded with Coffee 

A Coffee Tree in Blossom 

Troop of Cavalry Passing Central Park 

Oxcarts on a Country Road 

A Bit of Puntarenas : 

On the Old Highway to Picniarenss : 

A Slide on the Costa Rica’ Railway 

The Park in Port Limon . ; 

One of the Difficulties of Railroading in thie sftopics 
On the Coast Plain 

Church and Park in Alajuela 

The Foyer of the National Theatre 

A Village Church . : : . ‘ 
Map . . : ° : : ° . 








Central American Arcadia 





CUENTOS —TICOS 





A) CENTRAL AMERICAN ARCADIA 


EVERAL years ago a well-known young 
By write made a journey through a part of 

Central America, and on his return home 
wrote several bright and interesting articles 
about the countries he had seen. They were 
written in a satirical tone, and no doubt did 
much to increase the prejudice already so com- 
mon amongst us against Spanish-American coun- 
tries. He made the mistake of judging the whole 
from a part. 

Americans are apt to group all of these re- 
publics together in the contempt which they feel 
for them. . If we are correctly informed, this 
writer visited only Honduras and a little corner 
of Nicaragua, which are commonly held to be 
the most backward and unprogressive republics 
of Central America. If he had continued his 
journey south to Costa Rica, or north to 
Guatemala, he might have written in a different 
strain. i 


2 CUENTOS TICOS 


From time to time some enterprising news- 
paper sends out a correspondent to “write 
up’ some of these countries. As he usually 
starts out, however, with a preconceived preju- 
dice, and makes only a flying visit in each place 
he generally acquires more misinformation than 
anything else; it takes time to get acquainted 
with Spanish-American life, at least with the best 
features of it. 

It may, therefore, be of interest to take a look 
at one of these little republics through the eyes 
of a friendly observer, and such the writer 
frankly declares himself to be. | 

This article must confine itself to Costa Rica, 
as it is the only one about which he feels com- 
petent to write with accuracy, and as it lies 
next to the new Republic of Panama, soon to be 
the scene of such a great undertaking, it may be 
of especial interest at the present time. 

In the first place, to show the dense ignorance 
prevailing at home about Spanish-America, the 
average person does not even know where Costa 
Rica is, and generally thinks one is talking about 
Porto Rico, which he may have heard of since 
the Spanish war. When corrected and told that 
it is in Central America, he usually says: 

“Ah, yes, now I know. Don’t they have a 
revolution down. there almost every day, and 
isn’t the climate dreadfully unhealthy ?” 

It is astonishing how little Americans know 
of the countries to the south of them. Life in 
Spanish-America is a sealed book, as little known 


.) oe 1 ms 


a 


— re 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 3 


to them as that of Central Africa. The general 
impression seems to conform with what the New 
York tough said in describing the street in 
which he lived: 

“De furder down. yer go de tougher it gits, 
an’ I lives in de las’ house, see!” | 

In speaking of Central America, Costa Rica 
corresponds to the last house, yet in many re- 
spects it is the gem of the five republics. 

It is unfortunately true that revolutions are 
so common in the Spanish-American world as 
to give ground for the impression that they are 
always in a state of disorder. The good repub- 
lics, however, suffer from the evil reputation of 
their bad neighbors. There are seventeen of 
them between the Rio Grande and. Cape Horn, 
and in some one of these there is almost always a 
revolution in progress. Nevertheless there are 
several that rarely suffer from these ills; Costa 
Rica, for one, has not had anything worthy the 
name of a revolution for nearly a score of years, 
and we could mention others equally fortunate. 
The bad climate is confined to the coast plain. 
Nearly the whole interior of Central America 
is high mountainous country, where the climate 
is as truly temperate as any place in the world. 
It is never very hot nor very cold, and’ frost is 
a thing unknown except on the high moun- 
tains. 

Costa Rica although a small country presents 
a great. variety of scenery and of climate. On 
both coasts one finds the intense heat and the rank 


4 CUENTOS TICOS 


overpowering vegetation of the tropics, but on 
ascending, both climate and vegetation become 
more like those of the temperate zone. Yet, 
whether on the coast or in the highlands, the 
scertery is always beautiful. The dry season in 
the country west of the main range, which in- 
cludes the oldest settled part, extends from 
November to April. During the latter end of 
this period the vegetation becomes parched and 
brown, while on the side towards the Caribbean, 
during the same months, it is raining every day 
and the vegetation is-fresh and green. 

Most of the country is mountainous but in 
Guanacaste, the province occupying the north- 
western part of the republic, one finds another 
change of scene. There are open grassy plains 
with patches of woodland scattered about at ran- 
dom. It is the chief cattle-raising district and 
here are located the largest cattle ranches of 
the country. 

The most convenient route to Costa Rica is 
from New York or New Orleans by steamer to 
Port Limon. From there a narrow gauge rail- 
road leads to San José, the capital, a little over a 
hundred miles distant. The railroad is the prop- 
erty of an English company, and considering the 
difficulties of operating in the tropics, such as 
tremendous rains, washouts and slides, gives very 
fair service. It runs a through train each way 
daily between San José and Port Limon, besides 
a number of locals. 

The railroad is very substantially built, having 


= 














PORT LIMON 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA r 


practically no wood in its construction, all the 
bridges and even the ties being of iron. The 
rolling stock also is of good quality, and is mostly 
of iron and steel. 

The road first passes over the coast plain for 
some twenty miles when it begins to climb, 
finally reaching an elevation of over five thousand 
feet. Then it descends again another thousand 
before reaching San José, which is about four 
thousand feet above sea level. The scenery 
throughout the whole route is magnificent and 
well worth the journey from New York, or even 
farther. 

The dine climbs about the skirts of the main 
range, in which are two great volcanoes over 
- eleven thousand feet in height. The mountains 
are as grand and rugged as the Rockies, with the 
added beauty of the luxuriant tropical verdure 
that clothes them to their summits, and of many 
foaming white cascades and waterfalls that seam 
their green sides. As one reaches the heights of 
Cartago, the old capital, the scene changes. The 
traveller might imagine himself in New England, 
for the train runs through pastures bounded by 
gray, moss-grown stone walls, and if it were not 
for the tile-roofed adobe houses here and there, 
or if he did not follow with his eye the long 
slopes of the volcano, Irazu, until they lose them- 
selves in the clouds, the illusion would be almost 
perfect. There is no sign of tropical luxuriance 
here. On the contrary, the vegetation has a most 
northern aspect. Once past the divide, however, 


8 CUENTOS TICOS 


which is just beyond the quaint old capital, the 
train begins to descend towards San José and 
soon is passing through fine old coffee plantations 
where the coffee trees are shaded by bananas, 
plantains and other broad-leaved growths. From 
time to time as the train turns about the shoulder 
of some hill, one catches a glimpse of the broad 
interior valley which for more than three hun- 
dred years has contained the bulk of Costa Rica’s 
population. It has the look of an old settled 
country. As far as one can see it is cultivated, 
and the primeval forest, which seems to predom- 
inate on the side towards the Caribbean, has here 
been almost entirely cleared off except on the 
mountain tops. The lower slopes of the moun- 
tains appear to be painted in patches of different 
colors where sugar-cane, corn and other crops are 
growing, the whole having rather the appearance 
of a checker-board done in varying shades of 
green and brown instead of red and black. The 
whole scene is beautiful, strange, foreign, unlike 
anything to be seen at home. 

When the train rolls into the station at San 
José the traveller expects to find everything for- 
eign also, and, judging from the glimpse he has 
had of Cartago, with its old churches, moss- 
grown tile roofs and grass-grown streets, he is 
prepared to be taken back into the eighteenth 
century. Things are foreign enough to be sure, 
but there is a goodly number of modern im- 
provements to be seen. Hacks and hackmen 
crowd about the station entrance, electric light 














IN THE NATIONAL PARK, SAN JOSE 























STORIES OF COSTA RICA wi 


poles and lamps are numerous, and a neat trol- 
ley car is waiting for passengers in front of the 
station. There is a broad: macadamized road- 
way, bordered on both sides by trees, which leads 
off toward the centre of the city, and a little 
beyond the station is a handsome park separated 
from the street by a concrete wall. There are 
policemen in neat uniforms; the streets are clean 
and in fairly good repair; everything has a civil- 
ized look that pleases one after the stories which 
_ he has doubtless heard of filthy, ill-paved Span- 
ish-American towns. 

If the traveller decides to take a hack instead 
of the electric tram, he is soon rattling down the 
above-mentioned wide street bordered by trees, 
past substantial looking houses, through another 
pretty park, then on past shops and residences, 
crossing intersecting streets every hundred yards, 
observing that they grow narrower and the city 
more compact as he advances. The houses are 
mostly of one story, rising straight from the 
inner edge of the narrow sidewalk. 

When he arrives at the principal hotel, a two- 
story structure, in the centre of the city, he has 
another surprise. The rooms are neatly fur- 
nished and the bed linen is clean. Upon dining 
he finds the table appointments clean, and that 
which is served to eat by no means bad, and he 
begins to feel that things have been misrepre- 
sented to him. 

In the evening, if it happens to be Thursday 
or Sunday, he will hear strains of music. Stroll- 


I2 CUENTOS TICOS 


ing out in search of it, he soon finds another 
park, or, more correctly speaking, a botanical 
garden, with walks winding among palms and 
flowers and with benches here and there. 

He will see a number of people gathered 
together, promenading along the walks or seated 
on the benches, to hear the music of a fine mili- 
tary band in a pavilion. All classes are in 
evidence. There are gentlemen and ladies. Some 
of the latter wear hats and others have beau- 
tiful china silk shawls or panolons thrown about 
their shoulders. There are barefooted peons in 
short jackets with sashes about their waists, and 
peon girls, many of them in the low-necked and 
short-sleeved garments. characteristic of their 
class, with the gay-colored scarfs known as re- 
bozos thrown about them, the fringed ends of 
which hang down almost to their feet. When the 
concert is over and the traveller has returned and 
gone to bed, he probably passes a most comforta- 
ble night, for it is delightfully cool; before morn- 
ing, indeed, he. is likely to need a_ blanket. 
Moreover, it is not probable that he will be both- 
ered by those tropical pests,—fleas and mos- 
quitoes. 

As one wanders through the streets in the day- 
time he may feel somewhat as though he were on 
a stage set for a play or an opera. Things look 
as if arranged with an eye to picturesque 
effects; the one-story houses of brick or adobe 
covered with stucco, the eaves overhanging the 
narrow sidewalks, and the two-story houses 











STREET SCENE IN SAN JOSE 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 15 


nearly all with small iron balconies at the upper 
windows, in the Spanish fashion. The fort-like 
cuartels or barracks have medizval looking tow- 
ers and loop-holes; the heavy doors at the en- 
trance have a small barred window through 
which a soldier’s face is always peering. 

The streets are full of lumbering oxcarts with 
solid wooden wheels, in front of which marches 
the barefooted boyero or driver, invariably with 
an iron-tipped goad in his hand. There is surely 
no lack of local color. The sunshine is bright, 
the air is wonderfully clear, and all about are 
beautiful cloud-capped mountains, their green 
slopes dotted with white villages and church- 
towers. The land on which the city is built 
drops abruptly to the north and to the south, 
into river valleys, so that as one- looks down 
any of the cross streets, he sees a patch of green 
mountainside framed like a picture in the ap- 
parent end of the street where it terminates in 
the valley. A person must indeed be hard to 
please if he is not charmed with the prospect. 

One of the first things to impress a stranger 
in San José is the number of soldiers and officers 
to be seen about the streets. They seem to be 
everywhere, so that one wonders whether Costa 
Rica does not support a large army for so-small 
a country. On inquiry, however, he finds that 
the entire number under arms is only five or six 
hundred. When he considers further that they 
are nearly all concentrated in the four principal — 
towns of the country, he does not wonder so 


16 CUENTOS TICOS 


much. Two or three hundred soldiers make 
quite a showing in a city of thirty thousand 
inhabitants. The rank and file are not very 
imposing individuals. Most of them are bare- 
footed, and for ‘uniforms wear ill-fitting suits 
of blue dungaree, which for a warm climate 
answer the purpose well, it being cool and dura- 
ble. The officers, however, are more presenta- 
ble, dressed in their neat uniforms of dark blue 
cloth with gold braid. Some of these have 
quite a soldierly appearance. ) 

A squad of from fifty to a hundred men can 
be seen almost every day in the Plaza de Artil- 
leria next the artillery barracks. They seem to 
be fairly well drilled, and are doubtless suffi- 
ciently good for any service they may be called 
on to perform, such as putting down a revolu- 
tionary uprising. In these countries where the 
population is hot-headed and volcanic in its na- 
‘ture, an armed force is a necessity and undoubt- 
edly works for the good of all by preserving the 
peace. 

Costa Rica, as we have already mentioned, has 
been without anything worthy the name of revo- 
lution for some fifteen years. There have been, 
however, several attempts to overthrow the gov- 
ernment, which, thanks to the military and an 
efficient police force, were each put down in a 
single day with very little loss of life. 

As an example of the inaccurate statements 
made by the above-noted newspaper correspond- — 
ents, we remember an- article written several 








SOLDIERS 


DRILLING IN THE PLAZA DE ARTILLERIA 


a a 





ent ee i eel) ee es ee, 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA IQ 


years ago by one of them who had just > vis- 
ited Costa Rica. In it he speaks of the “bare- 
footed soldiers with their rusty muskets” who 
file out into the park each morning for inspection. 
They are barefooted to be sure, but they are 
armed with long range, breech-loading rifles in 
good condition, instead of “rusty muskets.” 

One lives in the midst of military stir and bus- 
tle, hears the bugle sound the reveille in the 
morning and taps at night, can see inspection and 
guard mount every day in the park; all of which 
adds to the picturesqueness of the life. The 
soldiers, although not much to look at, exist for 
a stern purpose, and when one thinks that they 
may be called on any day to risk their lives in a 
bloody conflict it gives them an interest in one’s 
eyes which their outward appearance does not 
warrant. Sentries are always at the doors and 
in the turret-like sentry boxes,on the walls of the 
cuartels. There is a triangle of different tone 
in each of the boxes, and at night, when the cor- 
poral of the guard wishes to see if his men are 
awake, he strikes one, when each man has to 
answer by striking his own. As each triangle 
has a different sound, the corporal can tell 
whether any one has not answered. When one 
wakens in the middle of the night and hears the 
odd, sweet sound, like far away bells, it gives a 
feeling of security, that one is being watched 
over. 

The military system of the country is excel- 
lent. Each citizen is required to bear arms, and 


20 CUENTOS TICOS 


every two months the personnel of the garri- 
sons in the cuartels is changed, for new recruits 
are brought in and the old ones discharged. 
The names of all who have served are enrolled 
in a military register, and when needed can be 
called in promptly. The government has a sup- 
ply of Remington and Mauser rifles sufficient 










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SOLDIERS READY TO START FOR THE NICARAGUAN FRONTIER 


for quite an army. Several years ago, when 
there was danger of war with Nicaragua, it 
armed and equipped about five thousand men 
in two or three weeks and sent them to the 
frontier. 

In addition to the soldiers there are the police. 
They are a military organization; the men are 
selected from the army, and controlled not by the 








STREET IN SAN JOSE 


See 


7 


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sk 44 


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STORIES OF COSTA RICA 23 


municipality as in the United States, but by the 
government. They are mostly men of medium 
size, not giants like our policemen, yet in their 
neat blue uniforms, with Colt revolver on hip 
and heavy ‘club, they present a business-like ap- 
pearance and seem to perform their duties as 
efficiently and more politely than those in our 
own cities. We doubt if any of our cities, except 
New York, is so well policed as San José. At 
night there is a policeman armed to the teeth, 
with rifle, revolver and machete, on duty at each 
street intersection in the main part of the city, 
and mounted officers go the rounds to see that 
the men are in their positions. This display of 
armed force is not so much on account of thieves 
and assassins as to deter people from indulging 
in riot, rebellion and other like diversions. The 
present commandant of police, although a Costa 
Rican, is a graduate of Sandhurst, the English 
military school. He could have had a commis- 
sion in the British army but preferred to return 
to his native land. There are two hundred men 
under his command in San José. He is an able 
officer, and since taking command has _intro- 
duced a number of reforms and improvements. 
For one thing, the Cuartel de Policia or police 
barracks, which the writer had the pleasure of 
visiting not long since, is now as clean and 
orderly as one of our military barracks in the 
United States. The night police were formerly 
armed with Winchester repeating rifles but the 
present commandant had them changed for single 


24 CUENTOS TICOS 


shot reformed Remingtons, as he considered 
these better for the class of men who were to use 
them. All the other large towns of the country 
have a police force similar to that of San José. 

One can see signs of progress on all sides. 
The city is well lighted, having an electric arc 
lamp at each street intersection, and as the 
blocks are all short (one hundred Spanish 
yards) there are no dim spaces between far dis- 





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VIEW OF THE “LICEO” AND THE NORMAL COLLEGE 


tant lights, as in many cities of the United 
States. 

On public education, which is compulsory the 
government has spent much money. There is a 
large metal school-house, capable of accommo- 
dating several hundred scholars, near the centre 
of the city and a number of smaller buildings in 
other districts. It is a pleasant sight to see 
groups of bright-faced children, with their satch- 
els of books, trooping through the streets to 
school in the cool of the morning. Some are 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 25 


white and others of varying shades of brown, 
according to the amount of Indian blood in their 
veins; the majority are neatly dressed and form 
a very respectable body of school-children. 

In addition to the common schools, the govern- 
ment also supports a college for young men and 
one for young women and girls. The “Liceo” 
or men’s college gives a good course of study 
and confers the degrees of B. S. and B. A. 

The courses in the college for sefioritas are 
about equal to those of our high schools. This 
department occupies a substantial building, with 
large, airy, well-furnished class rooms. 

As one rides out through the small villages and 
country districts he finds schools there also and 
begins to realize that something has been done to 
lift the people out of their ignorance.* It is no 
sham effort. Ex-president Iglesias, who for 
eight years was at the head of the Costa Rican 
government (leaving office in May, 1902), and 
under- whom much of the progress in education 
was made, was accustomed to boast that. the 
country supported more school teachers than sol- 
diers. When men of such character are at the 
head of affairs there is hope for a country. 

We at home have been so in the habit of de- 
spising Latin countries, especially Spanish coun- 
tries, that most of us have come to look on them 
as beyond hope, except for the regenerating touch 


*In speaking of lifting the people out oftheir ignorance, the writer 
refers to the peon class, as the people of the upper class are as a 
rule well educated and of considerable culture, many of the 
wealthy planters sending their sons to Europe and the United 
States to be educated. 


26 CUENTOS TICOS 


of the Anglo-Saxon. For that reason the writer 
dwells on those points which show some indica- 
tion of a healthy progress, of a start in the right 
direction. When one is looking for such things, 
it is easier to see them than when his eyes are 
blinded by the before-mentioned prejudice. 

There are more signs of modern progress to — 
be noted. The electric tramway, already referred 
to, runs the length of the city and a mile or two 
east and west into the country. The telegraph 
system, which is owned and operated by the gov- 
ernment, reaches nearly all the towns and vil- 
lages of the country. It gives fairly good service, 
at rates about half of what they are at home. 
Telephone lines, under private ownership, con- 
nect the principal towns, Cartago, Alajuela and 
Heredia, with the capital. These towns are 
lighted also by electric arc lamps. All of the 
electricity in the country is generated by water 
power, of which the numerous swift-running 
streams and rivers furnish an abundant supply. 

The history of railroad’ building in Costa Rica 
is interesting. 

The first railroad was built about thirty years 
ago. Strange to say, it did not start from the 
coast, but, passing through San José, ran from 
Alajuela to Cartago, fourteen miles west and east 
of the capital. All the material was hauled in 
oxcarts nearly fifty miles, over a mountain range 
and deep river valleys, to the beginning of the 
line. Senseless as this may seem, there was 
reason for it. Up to that time all freighting was 





ON THE COSTA RICA RAILWAY 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 29 


done by oxcarts, from the Pacific coast, and the 
“boyeros’ or oxcart men, formed a powerful 
element of the population. On account of their 
opposition to the railroad, the government, which 
was building it, took this way of pacifying them, 
and gave them the work of hauling the material. 

Although the cost was immense, the road was 
built and put in operation, every bit of the ma- 
chinery, rails and bridges being hauled in this 
way. 

At about the same time a small bit of road, 
which is still being operated, was built from 
Puntarenas, the port on the’ Pacific coast, to Es- 
parta, fourteen miles inland. 

But the greatest task of all was the railroad 
from the Caribbean coast to San José. This was 
truly a tremendous undertaking, considering the © 
difficulties that had to be overcome. These were 
not caused by hostile Indians, as in the building 
of our first Pacific railroad, but by mighty Nature 
herself in the region where she is strongest and 
where men seem but pygmies. The road was com- 
menced at the coast where the port of Limon now 
is, that spot being then but a wilderness. The 
government began the construction, but after 
building about forty miles, turned it over to Mr. 
Minor C. Keith, an American, now vice-presi- 
dent of the United Fruit Company, who suc- 
ceeded in bringing English capital to the coun- 
try to complete the work. The first twenty 
miles of the line is across the coast plain through 
tropical jungles and swamps. It is often said 


30 CUENTOS TICOS 


that this part cost one man for every tie. They 
died by scores and hundreds, carried off by the 
tropical fevers. The road, after crossing this 
plain, was built first along the open country, 
which skirts the northern slopes of the volca- 
noes Turialba and Irazu, with the intention of 
running it up through a pass in the mountains — 
to the height of San José. But when the line 
was completed to Carrillo, the point where the 
ascent began, it was found impossible to control 
one of the rivers. This is a rapid mountain 
stream, fed by tremendous rains, and, where the 
railroad crosses it, the country is flat, having 
no high banks to hem it in. It sometimes 
changed its course in a single night, leaving the 
bridge over a dry stream-bed and carrying away 
the railroad embankment on one side or the other. 

Numerous attempts were made to overcome 
this difficulty, but the river, known as the Toro 
Amarillo, or Yellow Bull, was too unruly. After 
several bridges had been carried away, the line 
had to be resurveyed up the other side of the 
mountain range from a point nearer the coast. 
It was tremendously heavy work, great cuts and 
fills that kept sliding in and washing away under 
the terrific rains following one after another. At 
one place a whole mountain side kept sliding 
down and carrying the road-bed with it into the 
river below. 

As the traveller crosses one of the numerous 
iron bridges, he can see a masonry pier standing 
alone some forty feet to one side of the bridge. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 31 


The pier was formerly under it, but some earth- 
quake shock or other cause carried the whole 
stream-bed, pier and all, down that distance. 

In spite of all these difficulties, the road was 
finally completed. Sometimes funds were so 
scarce that the laborers had to wait for their pay. 











RIO GRANDE BRIDGE NEARING COMPLETION 


Mr. Keith frequently had to ride into camps and 
face crowds of mutinous, discontented men, often- 
times making threats against his life, but so great 
was his influence over them, and such the confi- 
dence which he inspired, that after a few cheering 
words he would ride away leaving them contented 


32 CUENTOS TICOS 


and willing to continue their work, trusting his 
word for their pay. That the road was finally 
finished was due almost entirely to his indomita- 
ble courage and persistency. He seemed to bear 
a charmed life, passing unscathed through the 
dangers of desperate men, of fever camps, poison- 
ous snakes, and rapidly rising rivers, to which 








THE RIO GRANDE BRIDGE, PACIFIC RAILROAD 


hundreds, perhaps thousands, succumbed; in out- 
ward appearance, however, he is merely a well- 
groomed, pleasant looking gentleman, of medi- 
um size, yet with wonderfully brilliant and 
piercing brown eyes. 

In 1897 the Costa Rican government com- 
menced building from San José to the Pacific 


aqvoutiva OlWIOVd AHL NO MYOM AAVAH 























STORIES OF COSTA RICA 35 


coast a railroad known as the “Ferrocarril al 
Pacifico’”’ or Pacific Railroad. The contract was 
let to an American citizen an Ohio man, at an 
estimated cost of something over three million 
dollars, American gold. This is not the first 
Pacific railroad with which he has been con- 
nected, for he was prominently identified with the 
building of the Union Pacific. 











A FILL ON THE PACIFIC RAILROAD 


Although the contract was let to a foreigner, 
the road has been built according to the specifica- 
tions laid down by the government, and under 
the supervision of Costa Rican engineers. 

The location was largely made by a Costa 
Rican, Don Alberto Gonzalez who has been chief 
engineer for the government during the con- 


36 CUENTOS TICOS 


struction. American engineers say that-he lo- 
cated the road well. 

Unfortunately the work was stopped when the 
railroad reached Santo Domingo, a village about 
twenty miles from the coast, for the government 
felt temporarily unable to carry it on; but un- 
doubtedly it will be completed within two or 
three years. 

In February, 1903, the contractor turned over 
the completed part which the government is now 
operating. There is no lack of passenger and 
freight traffic, and it appears that the road will 
earn an interest on the investment. 

The construction has been a long and tedious 
affair, for nothing moves very quickly in the trop- 
ics, except fevers and death, and the government: 
has been too poor to push the work. There is 
no cheap railroad building in a country like Costa 
Rica. The mountains are so steep and their sides 
are so furrowed with deep ravines separated by 
narrow ridges that heavy cuts and fills cannot be 
avoided, and as the numerous rivers have deep 
valleys, many large bridges have to be built.. In 
the first twenty-four miles of the Pacific Railroad, 
there are seven iron bridges, four of which are 
over a hundred feet high; the highest of the four 
is three hundred and twelve feet from the rails to 
the water level. This last bridge spans the Rio 
Grande, and at the time it was erected was the 
only one of its kind. It is a combination of the 
cantilever and the arch and was built out into 
space from each side of the gorge, without any 


RIO GRANDE BRIDGE DURING CONSTRUCTION 








STORIES OF COSTA RICA 39 


false-work to support it, and has a clear span of 
450 feet. Considering that the two ends were 
joined together without being more than a frac- 
tion of an inch out of measurement, and that nota 
single life was lost nor a single man seriously 
injured, it is a credit to American bridge en- 
gineering and to the skill of those who erected it. 

From the Rio Grande the line goes turning and 
twisting like a snake about the folds of the 
Aguacate Mountains, yet following the valley of 
the river, which here flows in a westerly direction 
on its way to the Pacific. | 

For about seventeen miles the work is very 
heavy. Some of the cuts are more than a hun- 
dred feet deep on the upper side, and there are 
many fills of sixty and eighty feet in height. The 
road has not presented such great difficulties as 
the one to the Caribbean coast, but there have 
been enough. In the rainy seasons there were a 
great many slides in the cuts, and some of the fills 
were nearly destroyed. Much of this part of the 
line was completed for three years or more before 
the track was laid on it and became so overgrown 
with bushes, undergrowth and even trees, that 
one in riding over it would hardly think it was a 
completed road-bed. 

Owing to the fact that the work was started 
from San José and has not reached the coast 
plain, fevers have not had to be contended with, 
and only a few lives have been lost from sickness. 

Almost all the manual labor has been per- 
formed by native Costa Ricans, who on the whole 


40 CUENTOS TICOS 


have proved good workers. The peons (which in 
Spanish simply means laborers) need to be 
handled in a certain way to get good results. 
They resent rough talk, so that some of the — 
American foremen, who were in the habit of 
cursing their men, had to learn their business 
over again. The peons when they were sworn. 
at laid down their tools and went home; call it 
Spanish pride or what you will, they will work 
for no one that they think is calling them bad 
names. | | 

The workmen board themselves and provide 
their own sleeping quarters in the railroad camps. 
The contractor usually supplies each man with a 
few sheets of corrugated iron for a roof, and the 
peon does the rest. Their huts are very simple. 
They do not use a single nail in constructing 
them, but bind the timbers together with “beju- 
cos,’ the pliant vines that grow on the trees in the 
tropical forest. The vines can be found in all 
sizes, from stout ropes to small cords, and the 
peons put them to all manner of uses. 

One of these railroad camps in the mountains 
is an interesting place on a pay night, and rather 
trying to the nerves of a “tenderfoot” who is not 
used to the ways of the country. 

The men come in from all sides, with long 
machetes on hip, colored sashes about their 
waists, uttering blood-curdling whoops and 
screams which seem to forebode violence and 
bloodshed. But they are rather signs of pleasure 
and contentment than anything else. To be sure, 

















CROSSING THE RIO GRANDE BY CABLE BEFORE THE COMPLETION 
OF THE BRIDGE 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 43 


they fight more or less among themselves, espe- 
cially when under the influence of the native 
brandy or “‘guaro”’ made from sugar-cane. But 
all things considered they are not a dangerous 
people, and respond readily to fair treatment. 
One is safer among them than he would be in a 
crowd of New York toughs, for they are a dis- 
tinct lower class and have an inborn respect for 
a “sefior,” one who belongs to a higher social 
grade. At the same time they are independent, 
for many of them have their own patch of land 
which they cultivate, or an assured position on 
some rich man’s coffee hacienda. If not satis- 
fied therefore with things on the railroad work, 
they return to their own. A peon can live com- 
fortably on what an American would call starva- 
tion wages, and is as a rule a happy-go-lucky 
individual, seeming to let the morrow take 
thought for the things of itself. 

Even on the coffee plantations, or haciendas, he 
is not bound to the soil by debt as seems to be the 
case in Mexico and some other Spanish-American 
countries. The proprietor furnishes him with a 
house—or more properly speaking a hut—to live 
in, and also his firewood, in return for which the 
peon must work at the current wages for the pro- 
prietor when he needs him. When the work, 
which is principally in the coffee-picking season, 
is over, the peon is free to go and work where he 
will until needed again. 

Besides the peons, Costa Rica is fortunate in 
having an industrious and frugal middle class 


44 CUENTOS TICOS 


of small farmers who own land, houses and 
oxen. Most of them live in the plainest possible 
way, go barefooted like the peons, dwell in 
houses with dirt floors, and eat very little else 
than rice, black beans, eggs and plantains; yet 
many of them have comparatively large sums of 
money in the bank. It is from this class that the 
boyeros or oxcart men are largely drawn. They © 
are a rugged, independent set, earning very good 
wages. 

From San José to Puntarenas, the port on the 
Pacific coast, there is an old highway which, be- 
fore the building of the Costa Rica railway, the 
one to the Caribbean, was the only means of com- 
munication between the coast and the interior, ex- 
cept some narrow trails. Until the completion of 
the Pacific railroad to Santo Domingo all mer- 
chandise entering or leaving the country by way 
of Puntarenas traversed this road in oxcarts, and 
even yet it has t6 go in that way from Santo 
Domingo to Esparta, about fifteen miles. Old 
residents say that years ago the road was in such 
good condition that one could ride comfortably 
in a carriage the whole distance from the capital 
to the coast, but since the opening of the Costa 
Rica railway, the government has allowed it to 
fall into a bad state of repair. The oxcarts and 
the rains have continued the work of destruction. 
Even now, however, it is partly. stone-paved and 
is good enough for travellers on horseback or for 
oxcarts. It gives evidence of having been at one 
time a fine road that must have cost a great deal 
_of money. 














A RAILROAD CAMP IN THE MOUNTAINS 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 47 


The phases of life to be seen in travelling over 
this highway are most interesting. One would 
think he had gone back a hundred years if it were 
not for the roadside telegraph line, which is about 
the only thing that reminds him that he is living 
in the age of modern inventions. He meets trav- 
ellers on horseback with revolvers strapped about 
them, saddlebags and blanket rolls behind their 
saddles; caravans of lumbering oxcarts laden 
with freight, cowboys with herds of cattle on 
their way to the interior, and peons in short jack- 
ets with the ever present machete hanging from 
their belts. The entire distance between San José 
and Esparta is marked off in kilometers by iron 
posts, having the distance from each place let- 
tered on them. Every twenty-two kilometers 
throughout the whole route is a town or village 
where travellers stop for breakfast or to spend 
the night at little old-fashioned inns. Although 
unpretentious looking places, they are fairly 
clean and supply a sufficiently good meal. 

That these towns are all about the same dis- 
tance apart is said to be because twenty-two kilo- 
meters is a day’s journey, in an oxcart. The old 
_ settlers camped at these places at the end of their 
day’s journey and afterwards the villages grew 
up there. Those persons who are fond of the 
“good old days” as they are called and like old- 
fashioned ways would certainly enjoy a trip on 
horseback over this old highway. About twenty- 
five miles from San José the traveller, who has 
passed over a fairly level but gradually descend- 


48 CUENTOS TICOS 


ing country, comes to the valley or cafion of the 
Rio Grande. The road goes down four or five 
hundred feet, crosses the river on an old stone 
bridge of a single arch, then climbs up perhaps 
a greater distance on the. other side. In fact, 
after leaving the river valley, it ascends all the 
way to Atenas, a pleasant village nestled among 
the folds of the Aguacate Mountains. From here 
the road climbs up over this range, which is about 
four thousand feet high. The summit is often 
enveloped in clouds and the traveller rides 
through white mist that shuts off the view. If, — 
however, the day is clear he gets a prospect that 
is worth going a long way to see. Below him the 
white road zigzags down the green mountain side 
until it reaches the villages of San Mateo and 
Santo Domingo iying just beyond the foot-hills 
at the beginning of the coast plain, which de- 
scends gently from there to the sea. The beautiful 
Gulf of Nicoya and the blue Pacific, edged here 
and there with white, where the great ocean 
surges are breaking on some rocky point, lie 
smiling in the sun. 

Puntarenas, on its long sand spit with its an- 
chored vessels and the coast line for many miles 
can be seen as clearly as though it were a map. 
The traveller must be in a great hurry if he does 
not spend’ some minutes looking at the magnifi- 
cent panorama. 

Costa Rica, no matter where one goes, is a 
land of beautiful views. One rarely takes even a 
short ride without stopping to gaze at the altered 

















SOME OF THE PACIFIC RAILROAD BUILDERS 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 5I 


aspect of some mountain, changed by the new 
point of view, or at the beauty of some deep wild 
river valley, or the quiet picturesqueness of an old 
stone bridge over a clear, swift-running stream. 

There is a charm to life in such a place 
whether in the city or in the country, and it is a 
matter of remark among the foreign residents 
that anyone who has come under its spell for a 
year or two never gets entirely over it, but al- 
ways has a desire to return, as did those Greeks 
who found the land of the lotus eaters. 

San José, although a small city, probably not 
having more than thirty thousand inhabitants, is 
a capital and a metropolis in miniature. It is the 
governing and the business centre of the republic. 
The government is equipped with all the machin- 
ery of that of a much larger country. There isa 
house of congress, cabinet ministers, a bureau of 
statistics, a government printing office, where all 
official reports and documents are printed, a na- 
tional theatre, owned and managed by the gov- 
ernment, and an office of public works which has 
chargé of public improvements and such under- 
takings as the Pacific Railroad. 

There is something of a diplomatic corps, for 
the United States and several Spanish-American 
tepublics are represented by ministers, while 
nearly all the great nations have consuls to look 
after the interests of their subjects residing in 
the country. 

_ There are several foreign colonies. The Span- 
ish is the largest, although the American, Eng- 


52 CUENTOS TICOS 


lish, Italian, German and French are not far 
behind. One becomes quite a cosmopolitan after 
residing a year or two in San José, for he comes 
in daily contact with all these nationalities. A. 
goodly proportion of the foreigners are people of 
education, belonging to the middle or upper 
classes of Europe or elsewhere. ; 

Spanish, being the language of the country, is 
the medium of communication among all these 
nationalities and is also the language of business. 
Next to that, English is most spoken, yet any one 
who thinks of coming to these countries to en- 
gage in business should not cherish the idea that 
it is sufficient for him. To make the most of his 
opportunities he should know Spanish and know 
it well, for it is the language spoken from the 
southern boundary of the United States clear ta 
Cape Horn. 

For one who thas a comfortable income or an 
assured salary there is much to make life pleasant 
in San José. One attraction is the national 
theatre. The writer hardly expects to be be- 
lieved when he states that it is as handsome and 
well appointed as any theatre in New York. 
Although it is of only medium size, having a 
seating capacity of about 1,000, all the decora- 
tions and appointments are of the best. It was 
built and is managed by the government. 
Though, when looked at in the cold light of com- 
mon sense, it may seem a most foolish expendi- 
ture of the public funds, these people are of a 
different race from our own and have different 














Seum 


aunanardtt beeaz 


Tre Steane 








THE NATIONAL THEATRE 








STORIES OF COSTA RICA 55 


ideas of what is worth while. The theatre is 
built of stone, iron and marble, and is earthquake 
proof as all buildings should be in a country like 
Costa Rica. Skilled workmen and artists were 
brought from Italy to build and decorate it, a task 
which took several years. It cost nearly $600,- 
ooo American gold. 

There are many frescoes upon the walls and 
ceilings, all of which are of a high order of excel- 
lence. The foyer is very beautiful, having an 
inlaid hard wood floor, carved marble wainscot- 
ing and pillars and handsome decorations in bas 
relief on the walls. 

On the ground floor are restaurants and cafés 
where the playgoers refresh themselves during 
the long intermissions. The theatre is also 
equipped with a good electric plant of its own, 
and is well lighted. What most surprises a 
stranger is to find such a beautiful play house in 
a country which he has probably always thought 
of as only half civilized. Unfortunately, as San 
José is but a small city, the theatre is closed for 
the greater part of the year; still for two or three 
months each season one can hear opera or drama. 
Some of the opera troupes are excellent and 
would compare favorably with those at the 
French opera house in New Orleans. 

The citizens also get some of their money’s 
worth out of the theatre in another way. Official 
banquets and balls are given here, and as the 
floor where the orchestra chairs are placed is so 
arranged that it can be raised to the level of the 


56 CUENTOS TICOS 


stage, the place makes a magnificent banqueting 
hall or ballroom. 

If a tourist from the north, one of those wha 
come expecting to find a country of Indians and 
half-breeds, were to happen in on one of these 
occasions he might fancy himself in New York, 
except for the number of dark-faced men and 
women and other bits of local color. 

Another of the charms of life in San José is the 
nearness of the country. A ten minutes’ walk in 
almost any direction will take one out among 
coffee plantations and green pastures where cat- 
tle are grazing, for the city, like all Spanish 
towns, is very compactly built. There are no 
smoking chimneys nor grimy factories to mar the 
landscape, for Costa Rica is almost entirely an 
agricultural and pastoral country. To be sure 
the newly arrived “‘tenderfoot’”’ from the north 
may find some unlovely sights that interfere with 
the Arcadian charm, perhaps a swarm of black 
vultures devouring a dead horse or cow, or per- 
haps some drunken peons fighting with machetes. 
If he leaves the highroad and goes blundering 
about among the thickets and bushes he may get 
“coloradillas’* or “niguas’’+ in his feet. Never- 
theless all these things should not disturb him, es- 
pecially if he be of an artistic temperament, for he 
will regard them as part of the local color of the 
place. . . 

There is-considerable foreign capital in Costa 
Rica,—American, English, French and German, 


*A small insect known as a chigger in the southern states. 
yAn insect known by the name of jigger in the south and west. 











A WILD VALLEY 


re : 
eee & 


ea 
Aig ews 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 59 


and more is coming. It is a good country in 
which to invest money if the enterprise itself be 
safe. The government and the educated classes 
look upon it with favor and protect it. It is as 
safe as in the United States. The revolutions or 
revolutionary uprisings interrupt business no 











A RESIDENCE IN SAN JOSE 


more than does an election at home. Even if suc- 
cessful, they are no more than a change in the 
governing powers. There are usually a few 
men killed, but they are almost always interested 
parties who ran the risk voluntarily. 

The Costa Rica Railway Company, Limited, 
the road to the Caribbean, represents an invest- 


60 CUENTOS TICOS 


ment of between two and three million pounds 
sterling of English capital. The Tramway Com- 
pany of San José, with the electric lighting ser- 
vice which it also operates, represents another 
£300,000, } 

The United Fruit Company, the great Ameri- 
can corporation engaged in growing and selling 
tropical fruits, which owns extensive plantations 
in several different republics, has over five thou- 
sand men on its pay rolls in Costa Rica, and ships 
from twenty to thirty thousand bunches of. 
bananas daily from Port Limon. 

There is some American capital invested in 
gold mines, with the prospect that the amount 
may be greatly increased. Germans and French- 
men have invested quite extensively in coffee 
plantations and beneficios. The largest wholesale 
stores in the country are in the hands of Ger- 
mans. The principal banking institution is the 
“Banco de Costa Rica.” It is entirely a native . 
enterprise, being financed and managed by Costa 
Ricans, and is the place of deposit for govern- 
ment funds. It occupies a substantial building 
of stone and marble in the central part of the city. 
_ Commercial transactions are made easier and 
safer by the fact that the monetary system is 
stable. Costa Rica is on the gold basis; the unit 
of value is the colon, worth exactly forty-six 
cents in American gold. The gold standard was 
put in force in 1900, during the administration of 
Don Rafael Iglesias and was due more to his ef- 
forts than to those of any other one man. He is 








“< * ‘te 


Papa. 











A COFFEE BENEFICIO NEAR SAN JOSE. 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA ~ 63 


one of the most progressive men that. Central 
America has produced, and although he has had 
but a small stage on which to play his part, is a 
statesman of more than ordinary talents. The 
Pacific Railroad and various other undertakings 
-can be put to his credit also. But like some of 
the prophets of old, he is not appreciated in his 
own country. Since he left office, he has been the 
object of bitter and humiliating attacks from 
his personal and political enemies, and has even 
found it necessary to fight a duel. _ ke 
Nevertheless with all these material and practi- 
vA cal advantages, Costa Rica in common with the 
other Spanish-American republics, is a land of 
adventure and dramatic events. There are plots 
and intrigues, duels, midnight assaults on castle- 
like cuartels,—fugitives from justice in the 
United States or Europe flee here for refuge, as 
they used to go to our western frontier; exiles 
from neighboring republics who may have 
headed an unsuccessful revolution come by sea 
or land to save their lives from the hand of some 
wrathful dictator; adventurers and gold seekers 
from the western states drift in to stake their all 
on a last chance, willing to leave their bones if 
unsuccessful. 3 
The spell that swayed the Spanish conquerors, 
_ and led them through tropical swamps and jun- 
gles and over almost impassable mountain ranges 
in search of El Dorado, still hangs over these 
lands. Men are still risking their lives searching 
for the gold that they believe to be hidden away 


64 CUENTOS TICOS 


somewhere in the tropical wilderness, and the 
air is full of tales of buried treasure, lost mines, 
and fabulously rich veins of quartz that some- 
where off in the mountains are yet awaiting the 
fortunate finder. 

The future of these countries must be of inter- 
est to anyone who has lived in them. Up to the 
present the great tides of human life have swept 
by them unheedingly. They are comparatively 
unknown to the great horde of travellers and 
tourists that traverse Europe, the United States 
and the far East. 

The constantly recurring revolutions, the inter- 
necine wars and the fevers of the tropical coasts 
have given them an evil fame throughout the 
world. The idea is growing in Europe as well as 
in the United States that they are not fit to gov- 
ern themselves but must eventually be taken 
under the wing of some strong power that can 
give them a_ stable government. Yet if all of 
them were as peaceful and progressive as little 
Costa Rica, they would soon lose that evil fame 
and would cease to be a reproach to the country 
that bore them. 

However, if any European power should un- 
dertake to conquer such a country as Columbia 
or Venezuela, it is safe to say that it would have 
a greater task than had England in South Africa. 
Each republic has a population of about three 
million, instead of the three hundred thousand 
odd of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State. 
The people are used to warfare and bloodshed 








A STREET SCENE, SAN JOSE 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 67 


and with all their faults are not lacking in cour- 
age, while the natural difficulties to be encount- 
ered by an invading army would be greater than 
those of South Africa. The mountain ranges are 
high and precipitous; there are impenetrable jun- 
~gles and on the coast a European army would 
losé thousands of men from fevers and other 
diseases. 

An American in any Central or South Ameri- 
can city is often impressed by the tone of un- 
friendly suspicion and veiled hostility displayed 
by the local papers, and even by individuals, when 
speaking of the United States.. It seems strange 
considering our stand on the Monroe Doctrine 
and our other friendly acts. It is doubtless partly 
the fear of the weak for the strong, but when one 
ponders over the facts of history, he may con- 
clude that there is some ground for this feeling. 
The Anglo-Saxon race has diminished Spanish 
dominions considerably. As far back as the six- 
teenth century the English began to prune for 
their own profit the great Spanish empire. 
British Honduras, British Guiana and all of the 
West Indies once belonged to Spain. We Ameri- 
cans have also taken a hand in the pleasant pas- 
time. We took from Mexico, a Spanish country, 
more territory than is at present comprised 
within her boundaries. To be sure we after- 
wards paid her some millions of dollars for it, 
yet the transaction is rather like going into a 
man’s house, kicking him out, and at one’s own 
time and pleasure paying what one thinks best. 


68 CUENTOS TICOS 


At the outbreak of the Spanish-American war, 
we solemnly declared that we were simply going 
to right a wrong and had no.desire to acquire 
territory. Nevertheless, we politely relieved Spain 
of all her colonies of any consequence. No mat- 
ter how good our reasons may have been for 
doing so it has not increased the affection’ of 
Spaniards or Spanish Americans for us. 

What concerns them is that the Anglo-Saxon 
is gradually encroaching upon the Spanish-speak- 
ing nations. 

We are apt to think of the Spanish race as © 
cruel, treacherous and blood-thirsty. They also 
have an opinion of us. They think us cold, cal- 
culating and hypocritical, always seeking the 
almighty dollar. There may be some grain of 
truth in each opinion. Perhaps we do see the fin- ~ 
ger of God pointing us along the paths of our 
own interests, ev en as some ministers of the Gos- 
pel can hear the voice of ' the Lord | calling them 
_toa higher salary. 

“This suspicious fear of us will account ise some 
of their actions. 

The rejection of the canal treaty last year by 
the Colombian Congress was not altogether a 
game of “graft’’ as so many newspapers have 
claimed. Many Colombians feared that the canal 
strip would prove to be the entering wedge and 
that little by little we would absorb the rest of 
their country. The Colombian colony in Costa 
Rica sent a cablegram to the congress while it 
Was in session at Bogotdé, begging it to save the | 











VvVolu vViIsod dO MNVA AHL 














3 i 2 
i ait 


oe 

















STORIES OF COSTA RICA 71 


national honor and integrity by reforms in the 
canal treaty. The careless speeches and even the 
writings of some American travellers have not 
allayed this feeling. Take for instance some of the 
opinions expressed by the writer already referred 
to. In his article on Central America he says: 








A BANANA PLANTATION 


“The Central American citizen is no more fit 
for a republican form of government than he ts 
for an Arctic expedition, and what he needs is to 
have a protectorate established over him, either 
by the United States or by another power; it 


—e 


72 CUENTOS TICOS 


does not matter which, so long as it leaves the 
Nicaragua canal in our hands.”’ 

A little further on he also says: “The Central 
Americans are like a gang of semi-barbarians in 
a beautifully furnished house, of which they can 
understand neither its possibilities of comfort 
nor its use. They are the dogs in the manger 
among nations.” 

Is it any wonder that Spanish-Americans are 
rather suspicious of our ultimate intentions, and 
are prone to look on the Monroe Doctrine 
as a smiling mask behind which we are merely 
awaiting our own good time to come and benevo- 
lently assimilate them? 

The time is approaching, perhaps has already 
arrived, when Spanish-America will emerge from 
its obscurity and occupy a larger place on the 
world’s stage. For Costa Rica that time will 
come with the building of the Panama Canal. 
When that great work is well under way she will 
‘cease to be an isolated, unknown country. 

She will be next door to one of the great trade 
routes of the world. She will sell her food prod- 
ucts to feed the thousands of laborers employed 
on the construction, her cool highlands will 
become a place of refuge and recuperation for — 
fever-wasted men, and the charms of San José 
will become known. 

It is safe to say that her future will be brighter 
than her past has been. 


Cuentos Ticos 


(Costa Rican Stories) 


By 


Ricardo Fernandez Guardia 





Author’s Note: 


To the reader who does not know that in Central America the 
inhabitants of Guatemala are called ‘‘Chopines,” those of Salvador 
and Honduras “‘Guanacos,” those of Nicaragua ‘“‘Nicos’’ and “‘Pino- 
lics,’’ and the Costa Ricans ‘‘Ticos,” the title of this book will be 
unintelligible. The author has chosen it as the most appropriate 
for a work which from its character is not intended to overstep 
the boundaries of the little fatherland, Costa Rica, or at most 
those of our larger fatherland, Central America. 


Le 


a 
rey Tea 
* xi 





EL ESTRENO. 
(THE DEBUT.) 


S the clock struck four, Don Gregorio 
A Lopez, second civil judge of the province 

of San José, folded up with one motion 
the judicial papers he was studying, and pushing 
back the leather covered armchair in which his 
thin person rested daily during the appointed 
hours, stretched himself vigorously, extending 
his arms like a cross and clinching his fists, 
while his mouth opened wide in a long yawn 
which moistened his eyes. The hour for going 
had arrived, a blessed hour for scholars and of- 
ficials. Don Gregorio stood up and finished 
stretching himself on tiptoe, as though to 
awaken the muscles of his legs, asleep from such 
long inactivity. Then he took three steps to- 
ward the wall, where on a rack hung his hat, of 
majestic, judicial form, which he put on almost to 
his ears, according to the old custom, for the 
judge belonged to the generation now almost 
passed away, which wears its hat tilted back and 
its waistcoat half buttoned. 
. Armed with an immense umbrella; capable of 


75 


76 CUENTOS TICOS 


serving as a shelter to a family in case of need, 
he started, passing through the office of the sec- 
retary of the court, of whom, and of the clerks, 
he took his leave with an affectionate “hasta 
mafiana.’’* 

In the corridors he ran across Juan Blas the 
porter, who was vexed on seeing that already 
almost all of his colleagues had gained their lib- 
erty, but Don Gregorio Lopez was a chronometer, 
a man of scrupulous conscience, who would not 
skimp his time or work. When he was about to 
set foot in the street he heard a familiar voice 
which asked from the vestibule, ‘What is. God 
doing with that life of yours, Don Gregorio?” 
The judge turned to answer the salute of Don 
Cirilo Vargas, Magistrate of the Court. of 
Casacion.| The two men of the law clasped 
hands, and after affectionate inquiries from each 
about the condition of their respective families, 
they went on together to the corner of the 
Palace of Justice, where they paused to converse 
a while. After a little they separated with an- 
other hand shake, Don Cirilo going in the direc- 
tion of the market and the judge with much haste 
towards the Central Park, because it was 
threatening rain and he lived far off in the plaza 
of la Soledad. But he had walked only a few 
steps, when turning about suddenly, he called: 

“Don Cirilo; Don Cirilo!’” 

He of the Casacion stopped in an expectant 
attitude, but Don Gregorio who was advancing 


*Until to-morrow. 
yAppeals. 








IN THE CENTRAL PARK, SAN JOSE 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 79 


with an air visibly perplexed and_ bothered, 
stopped again, saying, “It is nothing, Don Cirilo, 
pardon me for calling you. I wanted to consult 
you about something that perplexes me, but there 
is no hurry; some other day, for the rain is com- 
ing on us now.” 

““When you wish; I am always at your 
service,’ replied the magistrate. 

The judge thanked him and continued on his 
way hurriedly, for the sky was clouding up more 
and more. Don Gregorio was not only in a great 
hurry that afternoon, but also in a devilish humor. 
As he traversed the Central Park, deserted on ac- 
count of the approaching rain storm, he let loose 
two or three imprecations and some bits of that 
about which he was. meditating: “Cursed 
woman! What a passion for making me ridicu- 
lous!” Then a little later when he was passing 
by the side of the Bishop’s Palace he stopped 
and exclaimed: “I won’t say it to Don Cirilo.” 
This violent resolution seemed to calm him a 
little. As some large drops were beginning to 
fall which sounded loud on the neighboring tile- 
_roofs, he took out his umbrella, which he was 
carrying under his arm, and commenced to walk 
with all the speed possible to his poor legs, grown 
old in the chairs of twenty public offices, 
and to an ingrowing toenail, which was one of 
the torments of his life. 

When he reached home all the cataracts of the 
. sky precipitated themselves upon the capital, a 
circumstance which stirred up his ire anew, be- 


SO CUENTOS TICOS 


cause he had such a horror of wetting himself 
that evil tongues asserted that, since the day of 
his baptism, water had not touched him. Al- 
though it is probable that in this there might be 
some exaggeration, it is certain that Don Gre- 
gorio believed firmly in the national saying that 
“earth on the body is better than the body in the 
earth.” This he never forgot to repeat to his 
daughter Aurelia whenever he heard her splash- 











THE BISHOP'S PALACE 


ing about in the bathroom. When he was under 
cover, the judge commenced by putting his 
enormous umbrella, from the point of which is- 
sued a fountain, to dry in the corridor.* Next he 
changed his wet boots for some canvas slippers. 
Then, wondering at not seeing his wife or 


*The gallery or covered walk about the patio or courtyard of 
Spanish-American houses is known as the corridor. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA SI 


daughter ready to aid him in these important oper- 
ations, he went to look for them where they were 
accustomed to sew. The room was empty. 

Little, or more correctly, no desire had the 
judge of seeing his wife at that time, since she was 
the cause of his bad humor; nevertheless as the 
unaccustomed absence of the ladies at the dinner 
hour surprised him, he went to the kitchen to 
learn of their whereabouts from the servants. 
There he learned from Ramona, a robust maiden 
from Curridabat,* who suspended her kitchen 
tasks to inform him, that Dofia Catalina and the 
young lady Aurelia had gone shopping, taking 
the maid servant with them. It would seem natu- 
ral that, on learning what he wanted to know, 
Don Gregorio would retire from the kitchen; 
nevertheless, one must suppose that he did not 
so intend since he remained in the same spot look- 
ing with manifest pleasure at the plump charms 
of the maiden. For Ramona was a very pretty 
girl. Her eyes, large and full, were not lacking in 
mischief; her very abundant blue black hair was 
in two handsome braids; her mouth was pretty, 
her teeth white; and her brown skin, smooth and 
lustrous, showed the Indian blood of her an- 
cestors.. 

The judge looked admiringly at her firm 
breast and well-rounded arms, which emerged 
bare from the low-necked and_ short-sleeved 
garment of her class. All his life he had been 
very partial to plump women, or at least well 


*A village near San José. 


82 CUENTOS TICOS 


rounded ones, and such had been Dofia Catalina 
when he married her. However as time passed, 
cruel and mocking Destiny had taken a hand in 
the matter in the form of dyspepsia, and she who 
had formerly been shapely and rosy had now 
become thin and yellow like a bit of macaroni. 
Ramona, whom the breezes of San José had 
sharpened considerably, doubtless read some 
audacious thought in the brilliant pupils of the 
judge, since she directed a glance at him which 
made him understand that he was in a bad posture 
and that his dignity was in peril. Without wait- 
ing more he turned about. 

“Do you wish me to serve dinner?” said the 
girl politely, on seeing him- go away. ‘“Dofia 
Catalina cannot come before it clears up.” 

“No, thank you. I shall wait until the ladies 
return.” 

Don Gregorio marched to the bedroom of his 
wife, which was also his, and taking out a key 
from the bottom of a porcelain flower bowl 
opened with it a wardrobe of Spanish cedar, of 
monumental proportions. The judge disappeared 
completely within that venerable piece of family | 
furniture, but soon emerged again, with a bottle 
in one hand and a glass in the other. After tak- 
ing a scrutinizing glance, as though to make 
sure nobody saw him, he filled the cup to the brim 
and drank it at one gulp. 

In that act, seemingly innocent, Don Gregorio 
Lopez, second civil judge of the province of San 
José, had committed a misdemeanor punishable | 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 83 


by Article 473 of the Fiscal Code of 1885. The 
liquid which the bottle contained was contraband 
brandy, with which a friend and comrade from 
Puriscal kept him constantly supplied. One can 
be a model official, an honest judge, and a man of 
chastity, and at the same time be unable to resist 
the seduction of a little glass of contraband 
“Guaro’’* or of a little cigar of “Chircagre.’”’ + 
An example of this was Don Gregorio, who, 
while he had been able to defend himself against 





i | 





IN THE PATIO_OF A PRIVATE RESIDENCE 


the terrible temptation of plump firm flesh, pre- 
serving the fidelity owed to his very thin Cata- 
lina, was never able to conquer his tyrannical 
appetite for contraband brandy. Less strong than 
that had been his profound respect for the law, the 
voice of his conscience, and even the fear inspired 
by his wife who had lost no chance of condemn- 
ing such a shameful weakness. All that she could 
gain was that he should concede to her the cus- 
tody of the exquisite liquor, to avoid that her 
husband’s irresistible inclination should degen- 


*Native brandy made from sugar cane. : 
+A famous tobacco formerly grown and sold against the law. 


84 CUENTOS TICOS 


erate with abuse into a vice. For this reason he 
was kept on a ration; a dram in the morning, and 
a dram in the afternoon before dinner to give an 
appetite. Dota Catalina herself measured the 
pittance, and in spite of the protests of the inter- 
ested party she always found a way to skimp it a 
little. That afternoon, traitorously taking advan- 
tage of his wife’s absence, the judge had served 
himself with the large spoon. Nor was this 
the worst, since, encouraged by the good success 
of his first exploit, he was now meditating a sec- 
ond even more wicked while he was putting the 
things back in the wardrobe; nothing less than to 
keep his mouth closed and have another go at the 
bottle when his wife returned. This pleasant 
prospect caused Don Gregorio, who had reached 
home in a very hostile disposition, to quiet down 
considerably. As he had resolved not to dine 
until the ladies returned, he went to await them 
in the drawing room, where he installed himself 
comfortably in a rocking chair, after taking out 
a newspaper from the drawer of a table. Before 
starting to read he inspected the street through 
the window. Not a soul was passing and the rain 
kept falling in torrents, inundating streets and 
patios. The judge spread out the paper, the 
only one that found entrance into his house, “La 
Union Catolica,”* for Don Gregorio Lopez, a 
man addicted to old fashions, who wore half 
boots, was a fervent though bashful Catholic. 
For a long time he took no care to conceal his 


*The Catholic Union. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 85 


beliefs nor his practices, but since liberal breezes 
had begun to blow in the government, and he 
had seen with stupefaction that the Senor Bishop 
-and the Jesuit fathers had gone out into exile, he 
thought the moment had arrived for relegating 
his faith to the bottom of his heart, and in regard 
to masses he attended only that at five o’clock in 
the morning, concealing himself behind a con- 
fessional box. Apparently, and in order not to go 
against the current, he applauded the great legis- 
lative reforms of the new men, but privately he 
did not cease to bewail the corruption of customs 
and the progress which liberalism and unbelief 
were making, not only in the educated classes and 
particularly in the young students, but also among 
the artisans, who now believed neither in God nor 
the devil. 

Full of anxiety, he asked himself where society 
and the country would stop, when the so neces- 
sary bit of religion should cease to exist, above all 
if ideas kept on advancing, although this he did 
not consider possible, because Providence would 
surely end by getting angry and putting things 
to rights. 

“At the pace we are going,” he often said to 
himself, “We'll have another French revolu- 
tion here very soon.” 

For this reason he greatly admired in secret 
the daring of the paladines of “La Union Cato- 
lica” who did not hesitate to tell some plain truths 
to those upstart liberals, and even to the masons 
themselves, a sect which inspired him with mys- 


86 CUENTOS TICOS 


terious terror. Don Gregorio was prudence per- 
sonified, and in his long life as a public employé 
he had learned that to fight against the govern- 
ment is to kick against the pricks, and for this 
reason he confided his private thoughts to’ no- 
body. As everybody always saw him on friendly 
terms with politicians and other people not very 
Catholic, he passed generally for a man of pro- 
gress and of liberal ideas. In order not to com- 
promise this reputation, which was of advantage 
to him, the judge carried his diplomacy to the 
extreme of not appearing in the list of subscribers 
to the clerical daily, which the curate of La 
Soledad, a warm friend of his, sent to him every 
day by an acolyte. Don Gregorio buried himself 
in an article by Father Birot against the Protes- 
tants, who were trying to save souls with cheap 
Bibles and discordant songs. 

The rumble of a carriage which stopped in. 
front of the house aroused him from his interest- 
ing reading. He put away the newspaper and 
went to the window, arriving in time to see the 
maid, who jumped from the carriage and ran into 
the porch of the house. The judge went out in 
search of the umbrella, giving it to the girl to 
cover her mistresses. 

The ladies got out with some difficulty, because 
they did not wish to wet their skirts nor expose 
more than was strictly necessary, with a modesty 
so much the more worthy of approbation since 
nobody, except the judge or the coachman, could 
see them. The rain had kept them in the dress- 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 87 


maker’s house, where they arrived late. In pass- 
ing they had stopped to see various friends, in 
search of fashion plates. As it concerned a thing 
sO important as the costume in which Aurelia, 
who had just completed her seventeenth year, 
would make her début in the approaching official 
ball which the government was giving on the an- 
niversary of Independence, it was well to take 
much thought before making a decision. For 
this reason, and in spite of the fact that the ladies 
had passed all the middle of the day in going and 
coming, nothing was definitely settled, although 
now they had only to decide on one of the two 
models that they had set aside, one rose color and 
the other white. The judge, whom these matters 
of gew gaws and trinkets interested very little, 
remarked on the suitableness of dining. On hear- 
ing this, Aurelia, who gave promise of being a 
- good little housewife, went to the dining-room to 
aid the maid servant in setting the table, and 
Donia Catalina followed by her husband went to 
her room to give him his half-daily dram. Un- 
moved, Don Gregorio drank it without the least 
suspicion entering the mind of the extremely lean 
lady, occupied with the costume of her daughter. 
If this circumstance had not intervened, it was 
almost certain that the impenitent man, addicted 
to forbidden drams, would have taken a most 
bitter one, for Dofia Catalina was malice incar- 
nate, and very acute, which had contributed not 
a little toward. keeping the judge within the limits 
of the most strict conjugal fidelity. 


88 CUENTOS TIC€OS 


After taking away the soup plates the maid 
put the rest of the dinner upon the table; the clas- 
sic dish of boiled meat and vegetables, a hash with 
peas, a piece of fried beef and a large dish of rice. 
Don Gregorio, who had a good appetite, ate 
heartily of everything, in contrast to his wife, 
victim of a poor one, who lived only on chayotes* 
and a glass or two of milk. Neither was the young 
girl a good eater, showing a preference for. the 
picadillos,+ especially for the one of green plan- 
tain. Like her father and mother, she was rather | 
thin, so that scarcity of flesh seemed a rule in that 
family. After an interval of silence, the costume 
of Aurelia was talked of anew, and others that 
the ladies had seen at the dressmakers were also 
discussed. Finally the conversation, always turn- 
ing about the matters of the ball, settled down 
on the grave subject of the turkey.{ The prospect 
of not finding a partner for a dance is a thing 
which everywhere alarms the women, but among 
us it causes veritable terror. The strange part of 
‘it is that they should compare such a disagreeable 
time to a meal of turkey, a fowl so palatable. The 
young girl declared she would not go to the ball 
if she did not have her programme full before- 
hand. 

“Tf it is to eat turkey,” she said, “I prefer to 
stay right at home in bed.” 

“Go away with your foolishness,” replied the 
judge. “These girls nowadays have some very 
rare ideas.” 


’ 


*A vegetable much used in tropical America. 
7A dish of hashed meat and vegetables. 
tIn Costa Rican dances, to eat turkey means to be a wall-flower. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 89 


“You are right, Aurelia,’ interrupted Dona 
Catalina. ‘I don’t want them to say here after- 
wards that you haven’t moved from your chair 
all the evening. Moreover it’s a sad thing to come 
out in society eating turkey.” 

“Well, what I maintain,” said the judge again, 
“is that there is nothing more ridiculous than this 
absurd precccupation which demands that the 
girls dance all night without stopping, even 
though they may be dead tired or a slipper may 
be pinching them. It also seems very improper 
to me to engage dances a month ahead.” 

“That is all very well,” replied the lady, “but 
until the custom changes one has to do like the 
others. What I consider shameful is the conduct 
of the young men, who go to the balls only to eat 
and drink, and what is worse, to laugh at the poor 
girls who are dying of embarrassment, seated 
against the wall.” 

“That’s true,” said the judge. “In my time the 
young men were better bred.” 

Dofia Catalina meditated a while, recalling 
without doubt the times which her husband had 
alluded to. Suddenly she raised her head and 
asked him: 

“Have you spoken to Don Cirilo?” 

Don Gregorio felt his wrath returning. 

“T have already told you that that is impos- 
sible,” he replied angrily. 

“Impossible!’’ exclaimed the lady petulantly, 
“T don’t see why it is. Don Cirilo is indebted to 
you for some great favors. What harm is it to 


go CUENTOS TICOS 


ask him one that won’t cost him anything? My 
father was right when he said you never would 
be any good.” The judge felt himself grow 
pale with wrath and was on the point of 
letting off a broadside at his wife, and even at his 
defunct father-in-law, whose-memory was partic- 
ularly distasteful to him. The presence of the 
young girl, and perhaps also the bitter remem- 
brance that he had of those conjugal encounters, 
in which he was always the under dog, restrained 
him... Aurelia, respectful, and ignorant of the 
cause of the trouble, did not dare to interfere be- 
tween her angry parents. After a painful silence, 
the judge continued more calmly: 

“Tf it concerned only Don Cirilo, who is my 
friend, I would not say no, but you iat already 
that — 

“Very well,” interrupted Dofia Catalina with 
a warning nod toward Aurelia. The judge be- 
came silent. Neither of the two wanted the girl 
to learn about the matter which had not ceased to 
be a delicate one, as will be seen. Dojfia Catalina, 
of a very humble origin, but who had always had 
great aspirations, hoped that Aurelia would reach 
heights which she herself, daughter of José Cor- 
doba, master carpenter of the Puebla,* had not 
been able to attain, even though she had climbed 
up some rounds of the social ladder by means of 
her marriage with the lawyer Don Gregorio 
Lopez. However, it was not hidden from the am- 
bitious lady that now she could climb no higher, 


*A district in San José. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA gI 


as her husband was not rich, talented, nor of dis- 
tinguished family. In her daughter’s case she 
imagined that the thing would be much easier, 
because Aurelia, placed in better conditions, 
would not meet with the same obstacles that had 
closed the way for her; and, as the girl was pretty 
and had good manners, she hoped that she would 
make a good marriage. With this end in view 
the lady had begun to prepare the ground with 
much patience and skill. One of the means that 
she had regarded as most efficacious to gain her 
peint, was putting the young lady in the college 
of Our Lady of Zion,* so that, together with 
good instruction and distinguished manners, she 
might be making friendships advantageous for 
the future, although the truth was that to date 
the results were not in proportion to the sacrifices 
which Dofia Catalina had made to keep her 
daughter in this aristocratic house for four years. 

The little friends who had been so affectionate 
in the convent were now each time more reserved 
with Aurelia. Social distinctions little by little 
began to raise their barriers between the daughter 
of the judge and her companions, better born or 
richer. How many friendships die in the same 
way on the thresholds of scholastic halls! Never- 
theless the persevering mamma did not lose 
heart in her undertaking, and in spite of her in- 
tolerant temper, took pains to hide the mortifica- 
tion which the slights offered to her daughter 
caused her. She thought, and with reason, that 


*A school for young ladies in the convent of that name. 


g2 CUENTOS TICOS 


skill was of more account than force. This same 
tenacity in her scheme had been the cause of her 
dispute with Don Gregorio.” Very much taken 
up with the first appearance of her daughter in an 
official ball, she wanted Aurelia to figure among 
the very first, dancing with the flower and the 
cream of the young men. 

The matter of the first dance to which our 
women attach so much importance, appeared 
to Dofia Catalina as the most difficult of all the 
problems that she had to solve on this occasion. 
She considered it indispensable that the young 
lady should dance with some one of much pres- 
tige, so that her initiation into social life might 
be very brilliant and notable. With this end in 
view she had reviewed lists of youths who might 
do for the event, and, after profound meditation, 
she saw clearly that in the whole city of San José 
there was but one gentleman in whose person all 
the:necessary requirements were united. He was 
the oldest son of Don Cirilo Vargas, magistrate 
of the Court of Casacion. 

Ricardo Vargas was without doubt one of the 
most distinguished young men of the capital. By 
birth he belonged to one of the first families of 
the country; in intellect and learning, to the 
aristocracy of talent. Still very young, scarcely 
twenty-six years old, he was already considered 
one of the best advocates of the Costa Rican bar. 
A good figure, together with elegant and pleasing 
manners, served as a setting for these gifts. 

It was not strange, then, that more than one 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 93 


lovely Josefina* should go to her window when 
he passed, or should follow him with lingering 
glances in the Central Park or in the Avenue 
of the Dames. | 

The person being found, the most delicate point 
of the problem still remained to be solved. How 
could she arrange it so that Ricardo Vargas, an 
aristocrat over whom the most haughty seforitas 
were jealous, should have the first dance with 
Aurelia Lopez, a young lady who was poor and 
not too well connected. 

After much hesitating, Donia Catalina finally 
remembered that years ago, at the time when 
General Guardia was governing the country, her 
husband had done a very great favor for Don 
Cirilo Vargas. He, becoming involved in a con- 
spiracy, found himself a prisoner and on the eve 
of going out into exile, when his wife, on the ad- 
vice of a friend, begged Don Gregorio Lopez, at 
that time employed as private secretary to the 
president, to intercede in favor of her husband. 
Don Gregorio was supposed to have some influ- 
ence over the mind of the dictator. Whether he 
had it or not, the result of his intervention was 
very efficacious, because Don Cirilo not only re- 
covered his freedom but came out of prison to 
occupy a public office of importance. 

Since this debt of gratitude had been contracted 
by the magistrate, Dofia Catalina thought that 
the moment had arrived for collecting it; and 
taking advantage one night of the intimacy of 


*The women of San José are called Josefinas in Costa Rica. 
a 


94 CUENTOS TICOS 


the conjugal couch, she explained her plans to 
the judge. 

He disapproved of them roundly, saying that 
the matter was a delicate one and that she must 
be aware of the fact; that although he did not 
doubt the good will of Don Cirilo, it was neces- - 
sary to reckon also with the consent of the young 
lawyer. 

The judge brought forth many other reasons to 
dissuade his wife from carrying out her project; 
but Dofia Catalina, always accustomed to hav- 
ing her own way, heard her husband as one who 
hears it rain, resolving to wait for a more propi- 
tious time. But from that night not a day passed 
that disagreeable words and disputes did not 
arise. Dojfia Catalina persisted obstinately in the 
affirmative and Don Gregorio in the negative. 
And thus it was that the ball of the 15th of Sep- 
tember was becoming an apple of discord in that 
family. 

The harassed judge could find no way to escape 
from the embarrassment which the obstinacy of 
his wife caused him. 

Many times he was on the point of making a 
clean breast of it to the magistrate, but when the 
critical moment arrived, the thing he was going 
to say stuck in his throat. Each time the situa- 
tion grew worse, for as the date of the ball drew 
nearer the importunity and bad humor of Dofia 
Catalina increased. Aurelia, who usually was 
very easy going, now had no rest for thinking of 
the turkey, and could not understand for what 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 95 


reason her mamma had forbidden her to engage 
the first dance. She herself would have liked well 
to dance it with Pedro Cervantes, a very attrac- 
tive young law student, who looked at her a good 
deal in the park and often stopped at her street 
corner. Her mamma, however, had taken a great 
dislike to the youth and did not waste any oppor- 
tunity to ridicule him, saying that he was a 
“concho,’’* and calling him ’Nor}+ Pedro. On the 
other hand Don Gregorio undertook his defence, 
putting him up in the clouds as a well-behaved 
and industrious student. He said that the poor 
fellow was not to blame for being the son of a 
countryman, and moreover that there was not the 
least disgrace in it, on the contrary his merit was 
all the greater because he owed everything to his 
own efforts. “Pedro will very soon be a lawyer,” 
he was accustomed to say, “and in Costa Rica the 
lawyers are good for everything, even to conduct 
a mass. It is true that the profession has not 
made me rich, but it has always given me enough 
to eat. Remember what I say; that boy will some 
day be a cabinet minister like Don Fulano and 
Don Perencejo,’t and he mentioned some well- 
known names. 

Nevertheless the weighty arguments of Don 
Gregorio did not convince the lady who, like the 
skilful adversary she was, was very handy with 
trifling ones. 

One day the judge, exasperated by the per- 


*A country bumpkin. 

7A contraction of sefior used by the country people of Costa Rica. 

tIndefinite names used as one uses in English ‘“‘such a one and 
so and so,” 


gO CUENTOS TICOS 


sistency of his wife that he should speak to Don 
Cirilo, exclaimed aggressively: “Why don’t you 
go to Dona Inez and tell her what you want?” 
Donia Inez was the wife of the magistrate. 

“7 talk to that stupid bundle of conceit who 
thinks herself the daughter of the Eternal 
Father,” replied the lady angrily. “I see that 
you are more stupid every day.’’ And this was 
the truth, not in regard to the growing stupidity 
of the judge, but the arrogance of Don Cirilo’s 
wife. Without literally believing that she was 
directly sprung from the Creator of the universe, 
Donia Inez had the highest opinion of her lineage 
and aristocratic position, like a good and legiti- 
mate daughter of the most noble and loyal city of 
Cartago.* Outside of her relatives and some 
other families, Carthaginians of course, there did 
not exist for her other than half breeds and coun- 
try yokels. Don Gregorio wished that his wife 
would commend herself to some good saint. 

The indomitable tenacity of the lady finally 
prevailed over the scruples of her husband. On 
the afternoon of the 14th of September, as he 
came out of the Palace of Justice in company 
with the magistrate, he told him, with much 
halting and many preambles, all about it. Don 
Cirilo, somewhat surprised, nevertheless took 
kindly to the petition of his friend, promising to 
talk to his son immediately, and assuring him 
that if Ricardo had not already engaged himself 
he should dance with Aurelia. 


*The former capital of Costa Rica. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 97 

“In case he has done so, I shall send you word 
before seven o'clock,” added the magistrate. Don 
Gregorio returned to his house so pleased at hav- 
ing finally fulfilled his contract that he was not 
averse to confessing that his wife had done right 
in persisting in her project. That same night, not 
having received any word from Don Cirilo, when 














CHURCH OF LA SOLEDAD 


the family was gathered together for the even- 
ing chocolate, and the bells of La Soledad were 
tolling “Las Animas,’* the judge announced to 
his surprised daughter that Ricardo Vargas 
would dance the first number with her at the ball 
of the next evening. 

As the morning of the 15th dawned, the 


*The souls. 


98 CUENTOS TICOS 


reveilles and cannon shots, which announced 
the glorious anniversary of Independence, began 
to interrupt the profound slumber of Don 
Gregorio Lopez, who was sleeping quietly for 
the first time since the conjugal disturbances 
began. Dojfia Catalina, contrary to her custom, 
awoke in a good humor, since the joy which 
walked* within her was great. Only Aurelia con-— 
tinued sleeping until seven, because she had lain 
awake a good part of the night, thinking always 
of the terrible turkey. The mother and daughter 
passed all of that day in great preparations for 
the night. Don Gregorio walked to the street of 
La Sabana with a friend to see the troops file 
past as they returned from the review. Only one 
thing about the ball interested him,—the supper. 
The judge numbered each of these great festivi- 
ties by as many formidable attacks of indiges- 
tion, but the truffled wild turkeys and other 
dainties displayed last year by the jovial Victor 
Aubert of Marseilles, whose epicurean traditions 
the fastidious Italian, Benedictis, has undertaken 
to perpetuate, had more weight with him than 
the fear of the consequences of his intemperance. 
Early in the evening commenced the thousand 
tasks of dressing. The whole house was in con- 
fusion, the wardrobes open, clothing scattered 
about on the furniture, and doors opened and 
closed without ceasing. 

“May God give me patience!” secetatret Dofia 
Catalina as she went from one room to another 


*La alegria que le andaba por dentro. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 99 


with a pin cushion and a package of hairpins. 
“Tm going crazy right now. I don’t find any- 
thing I want in all this disorder.” 

The lady multiplied herself, gave orders to the 
maid, advice to Aurelia, fetched with her own 
hands what was wanted, and gave directions to 
an accommodating and skilful neighbor, who had 
taken charge of combing the young lady’s hair. 
Spread out on the bed, vaporous and fresh look- 
ing, was the costume, the object of so much anxi- 
ety and solicitude. Aurelia had selected the white 
dress, against the opinion of her mamma who 
would have preferred the rose colored. The hair 
dressing was drawing to a close, and the neighbor 
seemed very satisfied with her work, laboriously 
executed by means of the comb, padding and 
hairpins. A diamond pin of bad taste finished 
the deforming of a little head that lacked neither 
refinement nor grace. Then came the turn of 
the white of pearls with which the neighbor and 
the mamma rubbed the breast and arms of the 
girl. She herself applied cream of cucumber to 
her face, and then a good coating of rice powder 
with a puff. . 

Smeared in this manner, with her eyelids stiff 
and her eyelashes white, the poor little girl felt 
ashamed, but all of those present declared that 
she was charming. The maid and Ramona, who 
had left the kitchen expressly to admire their 
young mistress, were the most enthusiastic. 

- The tranquil and satisfied mamma left the 
daughter in the hands of the neighbor and the 


TOO CUENTOS TICOS 


maid, and went to adorn herself also, a task 
which did not require so great care as the other. 
Don Gregorio, ready some time ago, clad in an 
antediluvian dress suit that Rodriguez had made 
for him in the time of General Guardia, was 
walking back and forth in the corridor that en- 
circled the patio. 

According to tradition, it rained in pitchersful, 
’ and already the judge was beginning to ask him- 
self anxiously if the coach, which he had ordered 
the night before, would come, when they called 
him in to see the young lady. To Don Gregorio 
she seemed too white and too scantily clad, but he 
pretended that he was delighted. A little while 
afterwards Dofia Catalina entered, modestly at- 
tired as was becoming in a person of her years 
whom nobody was going to notice. Soon Dofia 
Paula, a maiden sister of the judge, appeared, 
sopping wet, for she had not feared to come down | 
in the deluge from the top of the Cuesta de 
Moras,* to have the satisfaction of putting on her 
niece a necklace which she had worn to balls when 
she was young and some ear-rings which had 
been left her by her mother. With these addi- 
tions the poor girl finally looked like a _ doll 
adorned by infantile hands. The coach arrived a 
little late. Aided by Don Gregorio, who covered 
them with an umbrella, the ladies stepped into 
it, leaving a strong scent of Japanese corelopsis 
in their wake. | 

They had barely driven away when another 


*Blackberry Hill, an elevation in the City of San José. 














SAN JOSE FROM THE “CUESTA DE MORAS” 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 103 


coach, which came at a gallop, stopped in front 
of the house. Don Cirilo Vargas got out of it 
hurriedly. On learning however that those whom 
he sought were not there, he could not keep back 
an oath, and ordered the coachman to go with all 
‘speed to the National Palace. As the horses gave 
a violent pull a tug broke and it had to be mended 
as best it could. Without doubt it was written 
that Dofia Catalina was not to have things as 
she had planned. A series of ordinary circum- 
stances, although impossible to foresee, had com- 
bined to upset the plans so nicely laid by the astute 
lady. Thus Fate is accustomed to play with the 
most foreseeing mortals. 

What had taken place was as , follows: After 
the painful confidence which the judge had made 
to him on the afternoon of the 14th, Don Cirilo 
Vargas learned from his daughter Mercedes 
when he reached home that Ricardo had started 
for Cartago en route for Orosi, where he had 
been called by an important business matter, in 
which one of his clients was interested, but that 
he ought certainly to return on the afternoon of 
the 15th. The magistrate then inquired what 
dances he had engaged for the ball, and had the 
satisfaction of learning that he had not promised 
the first one, because like a good ladies’ man he 
did not like to show a preference for any of 
his flames on such occasions. Sure of being able 
to please his friend, Don Cirilo did not think 
more about the matter nor did he send word to 


104 CUENTOS TICOS 


the judge’s house. And here was where the 
skein began to get tangled, because Ricardo Var- 
gas, anxious to finish at once the business which 
had taken him to Orosi, had to prolong his stay 
more than he had intended, and much as he 
urged his horse he could not reach Cartago in 
time for the last train in the afternoon. What 
could he do in this dilemma? In fact, there were 
only two courses open to him: to continue on 
horseback or to spend the night in Cartago. Both 
were extremely disagreeable, because if giving 
up the ball was hard, neither was the prospect of 
two hours on a sorry beast in the rain very allur- 
ing. The lawyer chose the latter course after a 
moment of indecision. Used up as he was by his 
journey from Orosi to Cartago, he decided to 
dine and rest a while in that city no matter if he 
arrived in San José a little late, since he had no 
engagements for the first part of the ball. When 
he had thus solved the difficulty he went in search 
of a friend to dine with him at the inn; which 
they did at their ease. 

At the very moment that he was mounting his 
horse it occurred to him that it would be well to 
let. them know at home what had happened; his 
friend therefore promised to send a telegram. It 
was only at the last minute, remembering the 
promise he had made to Don Gregorio, that the 
magistrate, uneasy on account of the absence of 
his son, inquired as to his whereabouts, and Dona 
Inez showed him the telegram which she had 
received from Cartago. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA I05 


Don Cirilo, upset by this unforeseen mishap, 
sent out hurriedly for a coach and went on the 
gallop to the house of his friend, to tell him what 
had happened and to make his excuses. 

When Aurelia entered the great courtyard of 
the National Palace, converted for the occasion 
at the cost of a deal of money into an immense 
ball room, she felt very much disturbed. Hun- 
dreds of electric lamps radiated their clear light 
upon the multitude of invited ones, making visible 
with implacable discourtesy the artifices and the 
rouge of the ladies. Upon the canvas, sprinkled 
with paper spangles, which covered the floor, the 
black costumes of the men who were moving 
eagerly about with programmes and pencils in 
hand, engaging a waltz or a mazurka, were seen 
in bold relief. 

In the first row of chairs was the swarm of 
marriageable young ladies dressed in light colors 
among which white predominated, the fortunate 
ones whispering and laughing behind their flut- 
tering fans, the presumptive victims of the tur- 
key pale with anxiety. Ah, how cruel are those 
men who go to balls and do not dance! If they 
knew the anguish of the unhappy maidens who 
see themselves condemned ‘to stay in their seats 
before the ironical glances of friends and un- 
known persons, they would not hesitate to run 
instantly to put an end to such horrible torment. 
Poor little Aurelia trembled to think that she had 
only four names written on her programme. At 
that moment she really felt very sorry that she 


106 CUENTOS TI€OS 


had not remained firm in her first resolution of 
not coming to the ball, at least if she were not 
well protected against a possible disappointment. 

“Why did Icome, Dios: mio! Why did I 
come!’’ she murmured in anguish, while a cold 
perspiration ran along her back at the idea that 
she was observed, that everyone knew that she 
was going to eat turkey. Her ears buzzed. 

What most augmented her confusion were the 
spectators in the galleries of the first floor. There, 
in ambush, were the worst gossipers of San José 
and the most dangerous viperine tongues. What 
would they not say! Each time that a young man 
drew near, desirous of putting his name on the 
programme of one of her neighbors, it seemed 
like an offence to her, poor disdained one. So ex- 
cited were her nerves that the martial strains of | 
the national hymn, which started up suddenly, 
announcing the arrival of the President, made her 
jump. A few minutes afterwards the opening 
march commenced. 

And Ricardo Vargas did not appear! Dofia 
Catalina, seated behind her daughter, was in 
despair, turning about and scrutinizing the 
corners of the enormous salon, while Don 
Gregorio, by her orders, minutely searched the » 
whole Palace. Poor Aurelia’s color came and 
went, and she tried to hide behind her fan when 
any of her former companions of Our Lady of 
Zion passed in front, looking, with glances half 
impertinent and half pitying, at her seated there 
in her chair. 


STORIES, OF COSTA RICA 107 


The orchestra struck up the music for the 
quadrille of honor and the sets were already be- 
ginning to be formed, when Don Cirilo arrived 
quite out of breath, waving the telegram from 
Ricardo. The wife of the judge felt as though 
the building were falling upon her. Then her 
daughter not only would not dance with the most 
elegant gentleman of San José, but was to com- 
_ mence eating turkey at the very first dance! 
Dios Santo! What was she to do! 

In that moment of supreme anguish there 
presented itself to the unhappy ladies, like a stray 
plank to a shipwrecked seaman, salvation in the 
form of a young man of pleasant and agreeable 
aspect. It was Pedro Cervantes, who with much 
bashfulness came to beg the honor of dancing 
with the Sefiorita Aurelia. The young girl, mad 
with joy, begged the permission of her mamma 
with a glance, and she, bowing her head to the 
power of destiny, assented: with resignation. 

“What do you think of the ball, Dofia Cata- 
lina?’ one of her lady acquaintances asked her a 
little while afterwards. 

“Frankly, it doesn’t seem to me much of an 
affair,’ answered the one who was questioned. 
After a pause she added, “These Palace balls 
nowadays aren’t what they used to be. You 
remember those that Don Tomas Guardia used 
to give. Those indeed were magnificent. I 
shan’t forget one when they danced all over the 
Presidential Palace with five orchestras playing. 
different pieces; and I still seem to see the general 


108 -. CUENTOS TICOS 


in his uniform all covered with gold braid, paying 
court to the ladies and serving them in person. 
Believe me, there won’t be another president like 
Don Tomas.” | 

‘And where do you place that ball?’ exclaimed 
another lady joining in the conversation, “which 
a Peruvian minister gave in which they had a 
fountain of Florida water?” 

“That was also very fine,” replied Dofia Cata- 
lina. ‘Say what you please, in those times one 
used to see very fine affairs, and society was not 
so mixed up as it is now. I’m almost ashamed to 
say it, but now they don’t respect anybody or 
anything, and the worst scandals are in the best 
families. They treat us old people like trash. You 
will see that all this evening there won’t be any- 
body who’ll offer to escort us even for a glass of 
water. For that reason I’m better pleased to have 
my daughter dance with modest and honorable 
young men, like Pedro Cervantes, so that she 
mayn’t be in danger of hearing the things those 
abandoned ones, who know only how to gamble, 
drink and seduce women, are in the habit of say- 
ing to young ladies. I am frank, I prefer that 
my daughter work. dressing images for the 
churches, rather than see her married to some 
vagabond of good family, ‘one of those who pass 
their lives in the club and in the Grand Café.” 

Dofia Catalina kept on quite a while in this 
key, smarting as she was from the deep wound to 
her self-esteem which the slight of Ricardo Var- 
gas had caused her, because she did not in the 


: STORIES OF COSTA RICA 109 
least believe that it was all the result of an acci- 
dent. | | 

When the dance ended, Aurelia and Pedro re- 
turned to the place where they had left the 
offended lady. The face of the law student shone 
with great joy, since what was happening seemed 
like a dream to him. The night before the ball 
he did not know that he would have the good 
fortune to see his lady-love at all, even at a dis- 
tance and dancing with another; for in spite of 
the freedom with which the invitations to the 
Palace ball were given out, he had not yet been 
able to obtain his, which he finally got by means 
of a friendly fellow-student. 

And now he was able not only to see her, ad- 
mire her close at hand, but also take her in his 
arms, dance with her, breath the perfume of her 
chestnut hair—a veritable dream! 

With the aid of the law student’s friends, 
Aurelia’s empty dance-card was soon covered 
with names. In the face of such repeated and 
opportune services, the mamma felt that her 
prejudice against the young man was beginning 
to disappear, to such an extent that when the 
young lady, stammering and timid, said that 
Pedro begged permission to take supper with her, 
she granted it without great difficulty. 

Don Gregorio could not get over the surprise 
which the sight of his daughter dancing with 
Pedro Cervantes, among the multitude of couples 
that filled the salon, caused him. In spite of all 
the suppositions that occurred to him, he could 


110 CUENTOS TICOS 


not succeed in finding a plausible explanation for 
that strange happening, considering the antipathy 
with which the law student inspired Dona Cata- 
lina. What could it be? An act of insurrection 
on the part of Aurelia! No. That was not pos- 
sible, because a girl so submissive, of such a sweet 
disposition, was incapable of making such a scan- 
dal. But then, what was it that was going on? 
And the judge, very much perplexed, went to his 
wife to have her give him the key to the enigma. 

In a few words she informed him of what had 
happened. “Here is the telegram that that old 
pastry cook, Don Cirilo, has brought me,” she 
added giving him the piece of blue paper. Don 
Gregorio seemed somewhat cut up over the: 
calamity, but he thought it his duty to declare 
that he was convinced of the loyalty and good 
faith of the Vargas family. 

“T don’t want you to talk to me any more of 
those ‘sinverguenzas,* exclaimed the lady, re- 
calling in that: moment of wrath the vocabulary 
of her father, the master carpenter. 

In the meanwhile Aurelia was feeling per- 
fectly happy, as the result of the very same cir- 
cumstances which were making Dofia Catalina 
froth at the mouth. A true copy of her father, 
she had managed to be untainted by the social 
aspirations of the lady, her mother. For this 
reason the absence of Ricardo Vargas annoyed 
her only at the moment when she was in danger 
of eating turkey, the trend of her thoughts - 


*Literally “without shame.” In Spanish it is a very hard name 
to apply to a person. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA III 


changing from the instant when Pedro Cer- 
vantes had arrived, like a rescuing paladin, to 
save her from that nightmare. Everything that 
before seemed adverse and- threatening now 
seemed favorable and smiling. Even the busy- 
bodies in the galleries, occupied in flaying every 
living being, appeared to her as good and chari- 
table ladies. 

After the first dance, she had two more with 
Pedro, who was also very bashful, and said noth- 
ing to her. But after supper, when the two were 
seated together in the Hall of Congress, under the 
portrait of Don José Rafael de Gallegos, and the 
young man was warmed by the champagne and 
the feminine aromas which floated in the atmos-. 
phere, he made bold to reveal to her what she al- 
ready knew very well, that he loved her. The girl 
grew rosy red in spite of the rice powder and the 
white of pearls; and after making an honorable 
resistance to the sweet importunity of the enam- 
oured student, she murmured her assent in a very 
low tone, lowering her eyes and apparently being 
very tranquil, but in her breast her little heart 
was fluttering like a wild bird that has just been 
caged. 


A year and a half afterwards Don Gregorio 
Lopez and Dofia Catalina sent out invitations to 
the coming marriage of their daughter Aurelia 
_ to the lawyer Don Pedro Cervantes. 


UN HEROE. 
(A HERO. ) 


E all knew, by the suggestive nickname 

of Cususa,* a poor shoemaker, whose’ 

small blue eyes were hidden under thick 
gray eyebrows, which, when he had _ shaved 
himself, produced the comical impression that 
his mustaches had ascended to his forehead; but, 
as he was not accustomed to coming in contact 
often with the barber, he was usually seen with 
his face covered with stiff hair that gave him an 
aspect of ferocity, tempered by the intense 
sweetness of his glance. The distinguishing 
characteristic of the shoemaker was his merriness, 
a wild, irresistibly catching merriness. If one, in 
passing some tavern heard shouts, laughter, 
music, and the sound of dancing, he did not need 
.to inquire the cause. Only Cususa was capable 
of converting the inveterate sadness of the 
guaro drinkers into joy. He detested quarrels 
and was always ready to interfere in ordér to 
stop them, silencing by the force of good-humor 
the endless disputes between the drunkards. But 

*Brandy. 
I1I2 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA I1l3 


if the dissensions continued and grew into a 
fight, the festive shoemaker changed his argu- 
ments and with a couple of well-directed blows 
re-established order, for he was a powerful man, 
and brave to rashness. 

They used to tell, among many other things, 
of an affair with a much feared desperado 
who had just been released from the prison 
of San Lucas. Cususa was dancing in a 
wine-shop to the music of a guitar, when the 
rascal, irritated doubtless by the merry uproar 
which the good fellow was making, pulled out 
a dagger and cut the strings of the instrument. 
There was a spark in the eyes of the shoemaker. 
With one leap he was at the side of the aggres- 
sor, and gripping him by the wrist with terrible 
force, he bent it back until he made him let go of 
the dagger. Then, looking him straight in the 
eyes with an expression of great disdain, he spit 
in his face, crying repeatedly: “Assassin! Cow- 
ard!’ The desperado abandoned the field, with 
many threats, but he was never seen again in the 
places which Cususa frequented. 

The shoemaker’s drunkenness was not con- 
tinuous, as one might suppose. Two or three 
weeks used to pass without his taking a single 
glass, while he worked industriously in his shop, 
for he had plenty of customers and aside from his 
fondness for the bottle was a model workman. 
But once the thirst for brandy and the longing 
for dancing had come upon him, good-bye to 
awls and soles, for there was no one who could 
keep him in the house. 


114 CUENTOS TICOS 


The difficulty was even greater when the civic 
festivals came, with their three days of bull 
fights and masquerading. Scarcely did he hear 
the first fire-cracker, when he would station him- 
self in the street and would not return until he 
came home on a stretcher after the inevitable 
upset from the horns of some bull from Guana- 
caste. Other occasions for imbibing were the 

















A MILITARY REVIEW 


military ceremonies. Processions, reviews, funer- 
als, every act in which troops preceded by a 
band figured produced an irresistible itching for 
celebrating. | He used to pass all Holy Week 
doing penance in the Vineyards of the Lord. 
The libations commenced with Palm Sunday, 
very early in the morning, so that he could be 
present at the complicated ceremonies of the go- 














A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 117 


ing out of the flag. Then he used to follow the 
procession at the side of the music, marking . 
time, indifferent to everything but the drums, 
cornets and words of command. In his passion 
for military pomp he noticed nothing else, 
neither the image ridiculously bedecked, riding 
on a mule, nor the improvised avenues of 
bamboos which adorned the streets with their 
green feather-like plumes, nor even the groups 
of handsome country girls in their Sunday 
attire carrying blessed palm branches in their 
hands. 

When the procession was over and the Lord 
of Triumph, seated in an .arm-chair and wear- 
ing a violet colored hat, was reposing in an im- 
provised garden of “uruca” branches, Cususa 
used to return behind the soldiers, leaping to the 
tune of a lively two-step, until he left them at the 
barracks. The carousal continued afterwards in 
the wine-shop, in company with numerous para- 
sites who took advantage of his generous nature, 
with sonorous shouts of “Viva Costa Rica!” and 
much talk about the campaign against the fili- 
busters. While his mother lived, a little old 
woman, blind from cataracts, whom he cared for 
with great solicitude, the intemperance of the 
shoemaker was confined within certain limits; but 
when he found himself alone in the world, for 
relations he had none, the days of rest grew more 
frequent. 

Often he was to be seen sprawled out in the 
taverns, or sleeping in the street in the beneficent 


118 CUENTOS TICOS 


shade of some tree. Soon the poor man became 
the object of ridicule and gibes from unkind per- 
sons, and especially from the boys who at the 
time were attending school. 

With the thoughtless cruelty of childhood, we 
used to take delight in tormenting poor Cususa, 
when on account of too much liquor he was un- 
able to defend himself as he used to do in the good 
times when he dealt those famous blows which 
inspired respect and consideration. 

I remember how, on coming out of the class _ 
room one afternoon, a few of us little rascals came 
upon the shoemaker lying, helpless, close to an 
adobe wall. To see him and to feel ourselves 
thrill with joy was all one. Now we had before 
us the prospect of a good bit of diversion. After 
a consultation, in which we discussed the means 
of torment which were to be adopted for that day, 
the idea of painting him predominated. A box 
of blacking appeared, from nobody knew where, 
and the chief of the party took charge of the 
work. Soon Cususa was transformed into a guy, 
and at each new stroke of the artist’s fancy we 
almost burst ourselves with laughing. 

A vigorous and manly voice behind us made 
us turn with frightened faces, to find ourselves 
face to face with Captain Ramirez, an elderly 
retired officer, a veteran of the National War.* 
With gentle severity he reprimanded us for what 
we had just done, and to exhort us not to torment 


*The war against the filibuster Walker. Costa Rica took the 
most prominent part in this war, and it is there regarded as a kind 
of Heroic Age. Walker was defeated by the Costa Ricans, 

















A: 
AG 
wal 

es 








STORIES OF COSTA RICA I2I 


again the unfortunate man he told us the his- 
tory, which I am going to transcribe faithfully. 


When Don Juanito Mora declared war against 
the filibuster Walker, who had taken possession 
of Nicaragua, Joaquin Garcia, or Cususa as they 
call him now, was only eighteen years old, and, 
being the only son: of a widowed mother, was ex- 
empt from going to the war. Nevertheless the 
boy was set on going with his companions, and 
as he could not succeed in getting into the ranks, 
he evaded the vigilance of his mother one night, 
and walking without rest went to join the army 
on the march for the Northern frontier. I found 
him one morning, half dead from hunger and 
fatigue, and recognizing him, for we _ were 
neighbors, I succeeded in getting him into the 
column of the vanguard of which I formed a 
part. 

A few days afterward we surprised the enemy 
in Santa Rosa, where our flag received its baptism 
of glory. In vain the Yankees tried to withstand 
the thrust of our bayonets; they could not resist 
us, and on that day we had the unspeakable satis- 
faction of seeing the bully, Schlessinger, who 
commanded them, fleeing like a poltroon. The 
victory, it is true, cost us dear. We lost there 
many brave men, and the wounded covered the 
ground. Among. those most dangerously 
wounded was found poor Joaquin, with his chest 
pierced by a rifle ball. 


I22 CUENTOS TICOS 


At this point the Captain interrupted his nar- 
rative, and, opening the shoemaker’s shirt, he 
showed us a deep scar in the region of the right 
lung. After a pause he proceeded: 

This had taken place on the 30th day of March, 
1856. On the 11th of April following I also fell 
wounded, in the streets of Rivas. Here in his 
turn Walker surprised us, but did not succeed in 
conquering us. He had rather to retire, abandon- 
ing his wounded. I returned to Liberia in a ter- 
rible condition. There I found Joaquin also in 
the military hospital. By a rare chance we both 
escaped the epidemic of cholera, which broke out 
in the army, so weakened by the hot climate of 
Nicaragua and the terrible bloodshed of the battle 
of Rivas. We convalesced together in Puntare- 
nas, where I had some relatives who took care of 
us as well as one could wish. Some months after- 
ward, when there was talk of a new invasion of 
Nicaragua, we both ‘requested to be taken back 
into the army in the field. The only thing we could 
gain was permission to be enrolled in the garri- 
son of Puntarenas. On the second of November, 
our army which had been mobilized in Liberia, 
again set out on the march for the frontier under 
the command of General Cafias. Joaquin and I 
were inconsolable, on account of our inability to 
go with it, when an unhoped for opportunity of - 
returning to the campaign presented itself to us. 
The brigantine “Eleventh of April,’ so named in 
memory of the heroic fight of Rivas, was about 
to sail from the port, armed for war, to co-operate 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 123 


in the hostilities, and to put an end to the depreda- 
tions of the filibuster bark Granada. At the last 
hour there were some losses in the crew soa that 
we succeeded in enlisting on her. We set sail 
on the eleventh of November, carrying an abun- 
dance of provisions, arms, ammunition and 
money for the army. The brigantine had for de- 
fence four brass cannon. Her captain was Don 
Antonio Vallerriestra, a young officer of’ the 
Peruvian navy, who had placed his sword at the 
service of our cause. From the time we set sail 
the sea was very tempestuous and the winds were 
contrary, so much so that we spent eleven days 
in navigating the short distance between Puntare- 
nas and San Juan del Sur. Almost all of us were 
afloat for the first time, and we suffered greatly 
from seasickness; but in spite of this, and the 
battering of the storms which shook the vessel to 
her keel, we did not allow ourselves to be discour- 
aged a single instant, for we had faith in our 
destiny and truly believed ourselves invincible. 
Scarcely did that stormy sea give us a short res- 
pite, when good-humor again appeared aboard 
the brigantine, and officers and soldiers were 
rivals in warlike enthusiasm. 

Between rain squalls we managed to amuse 
ourselves, telling stories, playing cards, or chaf- 
fing each other. Some also used to sing the sad 
and monotonous songs of our country, which gave 
us a homesick longing for its green coffee planta- 
tions and swift running rivers. Stirred by the 
slowness of the rhythm we would silently call up 


124 CUENTOS TICOS 


visions of the distant fatherland; but each time 
that this happened a shrill and familiar cry 
would be heard, the cry of our mountains which 
no Costa Rican can hear without emotion, and 
Joaquin would break out into a rollicking clog- 
dance, accompanied by ridiculous and character- 
istic exclamations which instantly dispelled the 
melancholy of our thoughts. 

We all adored him for his goodness of charac- 
ter and his constant jovialness. The gallantry of 
his conduct at Santa Rosa and the almost mortal 
wound he had received there, were equally potent 
means of gaining the sympathy and affection of 
all. At other times, seated in a circle on deck, 
we talked of the war, and my comrades were 
never weary of making me repeat the story of the 
battles of Santa Rosa and Rivas, and particularly 
the details of the glorious death of Juan Santa 
Maria, the drummer boy of Alajuela, who had 
formerly been a sacristan.* With the greatest at- 
tention they listened to my words, full of ad- 
miration for the lad marching serenely to certain 
death. I told them how he had returned the 
first time safe and sound to our ranks, when in a 
storm of bullets he had set fire to the ranch 
house which served the enemy as a fort; the sub- 
lime audacity of the hero trying again the hazard- 
ous undertaking, as the enemy had succeeded in 
putting out the fire; how he returned a second 
time unscathed to the walls of the house and 


*He was the hero of the battle of Santa Rosa, setting fire, at the 
ecst of his own life, to the ranch house in which Walker’s men 
had taken their stand. There is a bronze statue of him in the 
town of Alajuela. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 125 


again sprinkled them with petroleum and ap- 
plied the torch which he carried in his right 
hand; the despairing cry which broke from our 
lips on seeing his avenging arm fall helpless, 
broken by the well-aimed bullet of a Yankee; then 
the indescribable enthusiasm, the great pride, 
which the sight aroused in us of the drummer boy 
picking up the torch again, brandishing it with 
his unhurt arm, until the destroying flames arose 
again; finally the hero’s fall riddled with bullets 
at the foot of. the fire kindled by his valiant hand. 
“That was a man! Viva Costa Rica!’’ Joaquin 
invariably exclaimed, as the narrative was fin- 
ished; and all, stirred by the sincerity of his 
enthusiasm would join in the shout. “Viva Costa 
Rica!’ we would answer, and the noise of our 
voices was lost in the roaring of the waves. 

The ‘Eleventh of April,” buffeted by the 
storms, began to leak considerably and we had to 
take to the pumps. In this condition we arrived 
in front of the bay of San Juan del Sur, on the 
afternoon of November 22nd. Captain Valler- 
riestra inspected the coast carefully with a tele- 
scope, then we saw him conferring with the 
military commanders. When the council was 
over he ordered the bow turned toward the shore. 

Not much time passed before we sighted a 
sail, which came out from the port and steered to- 
ward us. The captain, who was continuing his 
inspection, suddenly said a few words to. Major 
Maheigt at his side, and immediately gave the 
order to clear for action. A gust of enthusiasm 


126 CUENTOS TICOS 


swept over the vessel. At last we were going to 
meet the enemy. At about six o'clock we hoisted 
cur flag. The sight of the fluttering tricolored 
stripes inflamed our hearts; we saluted it with 
delirious enthusiasm. 

The enemy’s vessel was now quite close and on 
her quarter deck we could see the blue and white 
ensign of the old Central American Federation, 
capped by the red star of the usurper. A few 
minutes afterward the air was rent by a thunder- 
ous report, and we heard the enemy’s first broad- 
side pass over our heads. Then the combat started 
with unspeakable fury, the Yankees determined 
to avenge the drubbing our arms had given them 
at Santa Rosa and Rivas. Our men, most of 
whom were smelling powder for the first time, 
fought with unsurpassed courage, even though 
the ordinary hazards of a sea fight were increased 
for us by the inexperience of our gunners and the 
great danger we were in from the leaks of the 
“Eleventh of April,’ through which water 
was pouring in torrents; and as if this were not 
enough, a fire broke out in the bow one hour after 
the beginning of the fight. But what could water, 
fire and the enemy’s bullets do against the fever 
of patriotism which had turned us mad? Daunt- 
lessly the twenty-four year old captain directed 
the manceuvres with the calmness of a sea-wolf 
grown gray in warfare. With quiet daring he 
went to the places of greatest danger, directing, 
amid the flying missiles, the putting out of the fire, 
the management of the pumps and the aiming of 


_ STORIES OF COSTA RICA 127 


cannons. He seemed to be everywhere at once, 
aided by Major Maheigt, who was valor per- 
sonified; and all, animated by such sublime 
examples, seeing that even the chaplain had taken 
a gun in hand, fought like wild beasts. 

Night came on and still the terrible fight con- 
tinued, lighted up by the flames that were de- 
vouring our vessel. Joaquin, whose smiling 
intrepidity filled us with admiration, said to me 
with a laugh between two shots: 

“My, lieutenant, what a good supper is being 
prepared for the sharks! They won’t have teeth © 
enough to eat so much fresh meat, still as there 
will be plenty of salt to season it they won’t be 
much bothered.” | 

This allusion to the almost inevitable fate that 
was awaiting us; made in those moments of mor- 
tal peril and with such light-heartedness, paints 
admirably the character of the boy, a mixture of 
bravery and jovialness. 

In spite of the very bad conditions under which 
we fought, our fire was causing many losses 
among the enemy. His fire was growing gradu- 
ally weaker and victory was beginning to shine in 
our eyes with magic splendor, when about ten 
o'clock at night a great light illuminated every- 
thing around, accompanied by. a tremendous ex- 
plosion. Without knowing what was happening 
to me, I was hurled through the air for a long dis- 
tance until I fell into the sea. The coolness of the 
water cleared my head. I understood that the 
“Eleventh of April” had blown up. After a little, 


128 CUENTOS TICOS 


I managed to lay hold of a piece of wood which 
came floating by, for a sharp pain in one leg made 
it hard for me to swim. From the riven hull of 
our beloved brigantine flames still burst forth, 
casting a red light upon the tossing waves, which 
allowed one to see intermittently the gloomy scene 
of the shipwreck. Floating about at random a 
multitude of boards, boxes and casks could be 
seen, which the survivors of the catastrophe seized 
hold of with desperation. 

The pain in my leg, caused by a wound which 
I received at the very moment of the explosion, . 
became unbearable. I felt that I was losing con- 
sciousness and all would soon be over with me. 
From the vessel in her death agony, a last flame 
burst forth, and the “Eleventh of April” plunged 
to the bottom with an awe-inspiring roar. There 
was a death-like silence, and darkness reigned 
upon the sea. Then, as though it were the death- 
rattle of the expiring vessel,a wild shout rang 
out in the darkness: ‘Viva Costa Rica! Death 
to Walker!” It was the voice of Joaquin, spitting 
a last insult in the face of the usurper. I fainted 
and let go of the piece of wood which sustained 
me. 

When I recovered consciousness I found myself 
aboard the Granada. A comrade who was beside 
me, also wounded, told me that Joaquin had saved 
my life, holding me up in the water until one of 
the enemy’s boats picked me up. He told me that 
the heroic boy, after saving two more shipwrecked 
men, had refused to surrender, preferring to run 














A HUMBLE FUNERAL 


+e: eae ® ~ 
a fete We 


oy ii ne oe 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA I31 


the risk of almost certain death to the humiliation 
of confessing himself a prisoner of the Yankees. 
I learned also that Captain Vallerriestra, covered 
with dreadful burns, was aboard the Granada, 
and that his youth and his heroic conduct had 
aroused the admiration of the enemy’s officers. 
With us also were the brave Maheigt and the 
priest Godoy, so badly woundel that he died a 
few hours afterwards. 

Of the hundred and ten men who formed the 
crew of the brigantine, forty were saved, besides 
Joaquin, who managed to get to the shore with 
the aid of a barrel. He was found almost dead 
on the beach by some good people, who under- 
took to bring him back to life with vigorous rub- 
bings and doses of brandy which they had to 
make him take almost by force, for up to that time 
he had been temperate in the extreme. After 
that however he was less so, and that and nothing 
else was the beginning of his intemperance. 


The veteran became silent, and his eyes, turned 
on Cususa, who continued to sleep profoundly, 
were full of kindness and compassion. Straight- 
way he asked for water in a neighboring house, 
and taking out his handkerchief, washed the 
drunkard’s face carefully. When it was some- 
what cleaner, he shook him vigorously, shouting 
in his ear: “Joaquin! Joaquin!” On hearing the 
voice of his old-time superior the drunkard gave 
a start and heavily opening his eyes murmured, 


132 CUENTOS TICOS 


with thickened tongue: “Present, my captain.” 
With a great effort the veteran made him get up, 
and giving him his arm led him, staggering, 
away. 

Childish minds are very impressionable and the 
tale of the captain sank deep into ours. From 
that day Cususa took on colossal porportions for 
us, and we began to look on him as almost a leg- 
endary being, capable of the greatest deeds of 
heroism. We never again tormented him, we 
rather undertook to defend him with great zeal 
whenever any other little rascals tried to molest 
him. 

A few months after the veteran’s intervention 
in favor of the shoemaker, we were coming out 
of school one afternoon, when we met a modest 
funeral. Four men were carrying the cheap coffin 
and behind them marched Captain Ramirez, with 
red eyes. Our noisy shouts made him turn his 
head and look at us a moment. He recognized 
us, and doubtless remembering the tale he had 
told us, exclaimed in a sorrowful voice: “It is 
he,—Joaquin!” We looked at each other, and 
with tacit agreement born spontaneously of one 
of those generous impulses so common to youth, 
we added ourselves to the cortege of the hero. 


UN SANTO MILAGROSO. 
(A MIRACULOUS SAINT. ) 


N a short time the fame of a certain miraculous 
image of San Jeronimo, of which extra- 
ordinary things, one might say miracles, were 
related, had spread through a part of the province 
of Alajuela. The residents of San Pedro de la 
Calabaza and of La Sabanilla showed especial en- 
thusiasm, and the reputation of the saint already 
extended to the very capital of the province, 
where, to tell the truth, it met with considerable 
skepticism; but it must not be forgotten that the 
people of Alajuela are hardened unbelievers. 
Whether the fellow citizens of Juan Santa 
Maria were right or not in showing their unbe- 
lief in respect to San Jeronimo, it is certain that - 
now there was not a rosary, a candle burned in 
honor of a saint, nor any other festival at which 
one would not find the sainted image present. 
Everybody disputed for the notable honor of. en- 
tertaining it, even though it were not more than 
a few hours. Its frequent journeys were trium- 
phal, in the midst of a brilliant following, the 


133 


134 CUENTOS TICOS 


splendor of which the music, sky-rockets and fire- 
crackers did not diminish. At first sight the image 
did not present-any marked peculiarity. It was a 
crude sculpture of wood, painted and varnished, 
of little more than a metre in height. The saint, 
dressed in an ordinary habit, trimmed with silver 
braid, was far from having the appearance of an 
ascetic; he rather resembled one of those cor- 
pulent, incontinent monks whom the Catalonian 
lithographs have made familiar. But this detail, 
which only some critical and evil-disposed per- 
sons of the city of Alajuela had noticed, did not 
affect in the least the devotion of his adorers, who 
never tired of making festivals in his honor, nor 
of kissing his feet. 

The peregrinations of San Jeronimo finally at- 
tracted the attention of the authorities and even 
caused them alarm; but not on account of the 
manifestations of gross fanaticism which the 
image called forth from the country people, as 
in that matter there is always much tolerance. 
What worried the provincial authorities was 
something more serious; it was the increasing 
number of disorders and quarrels which arose on 
the passing of the saint, who left behind him a 
trail of blood. Any festival where he was present 
was sure to have a bad ending; with machete 
strokes and dagger thrusts almost always. In the 
criminal court several trials for homicide were 
in progress; the wounded were numerous, the 
bruised ones legion. The governor then resolved 
to take rigorous measures, ordering the jefes 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 135 


politicos* and the other subordinate officials to 
arrest San Jeronimo by all means and without 
loss of time; but their zeal was in vain. The saint 
disappeared like smoke after each one of his jour- 
neys, to reappear after some days, now in one 
place, now in another, when he was least expected. 
The disorders, the drunkenness and the machete 
strokes continued. Furious on account of all this, 
the governor did not cease from telegraphing the 
subordinate authorities to stimulate their zeal, 
and they now had no rest from their search for 
San Jeronimo. 

Such was the situation when Pativo Villalta, 
a corporal of the customs guard, just as he was’ 
preparing to set out on a campaign with his fel- 
low guards one afternoon, said to the governor: 

“Don’t you worry, Sefor; I intend to bring 
you that rascally little saint.”’ 

On hearing this, the harassed official saw the 
heavens opening and was on the point of em- 
bracing Pedro Villalta; for the corporal was an 
old dog and most sagacious. That very night 
the governor announced, in the club which he fre- 
quented, that the capture of the saint was about 
to take place, a statement that was received with 
much incredulity, provoking many jokes and 
much chaff. “This San Jeronimo doesn’t exist,” 
declared Doctor Pradera. “It is a yarn of the 
San Pedro people to put you on the run.” 

The governor, somewhat nettled, replied : “You 
may laugh and say what you please, but I invite 


*An officer somewhat similar to a mayor of a town. 


136 CUENTOS TICOS 


you all to pay a visit to the saint in the police 
barracks.”’ 
“Then I’ll bet you a supper that you won’t,” 
exclaimed the commandant of the plaza, merrily. 
“Accepted,” said the governor. 


While the chief authority of the province was 
giving unmistakable proofs of his confidence in 
the ability of Pedro Villalta, that veteran and his 
comrades were riding silently along the high road 
to Puntarenas. They had ostentatiously taken 
that direction on setting out from Alajuela at 
night-fall, but when they had gone about half 
the distance to the little village of San José* the 
corporal reined in his horse and gave the order to 
turn back. The guards accustomed to these ma- 
neeuvres, obeyed without grumbling. In return- 
ing they kept away from the city, following 
deserted lanes and byways, and making a circuit, 
finally arrived at the river of La Maravilla. Once 
on the other side of the bridge, the corporal said: 
“Now to La Sabanilla!” After riding some dis- 
tance, Juan Rodriguez, a frank and good-natured 
Hercules, asked a question: “Corporal, if we are 
going to La Sabanilla, why have we made this 
big circuit?” 

Some laughter was heard, but Villalta, who 
liked Juan Rodriguez for his staunchness and 
courage, kindly explained to him that their de-— 
tour was made so that the contraband liquor- 


*A small village bearing the same name as the Capital of Costa 
Rica, a few miles west of Alajuela. 





AN OLD STONE BRIDGE 








STORIES OF COSTA RICA 139 


makers might not be advised of the arrival of the 
guard. Juan, who was a new recruit, felt himself 
filled with admiration at the astuteness of his 
chief. 

“Those people have spies and friends every- 
where,” continued Villalta. “But with me they 
get fooled, for I know all their tricks. This time 
I expect to bring in the still of the Arias.” On 
hearing this name the guards pricked up their 
ears. 

The Arias were no less than the most feared 
contrabandists of the whole country. Of the 
three brothers, José, Ramon and Antonio, one 
could not tell which was the worst. They had all 
made themselves famous by committing unheard 
of crimes and by giving proofs of their reckless 
courage in their encounters with the customs 
guard and in the numberless affrays which they 
stirred up wherever they went. There were 
those who said that more than a dozen men, 
guards and others, had gone to their eternal sleep 
on their account. In spite of so many atrocities, 
nobody was able to lay hands on them, and the 
three brothers continued tranquilly in their profit- 
able industry, which was not only the distilling of 
brandy in an inaccessible ravine of La Sabanilla, 
but also the smuggling of great quantities of cog- 
nac, revolvers and ammunition, passing the pack- 
ages through the very beards of the customs 
guards on the San Carlos.* 


*A river in the northern part of Costa Rica near the Nicaraguan 
boundary. . 


140 CUENTOS TICOS 


“Who are these Arias?” asked Juan Rodriguez 
again. 

“The Arias are the worst bandits in Costa 
Rica. May God save you from ever meeting 
them,’ replied one of the guards. 

“I’m not afraid of anybody,” replied the good- 
natured Hercules, simply. 

“I like that, Juan,” said the corporal, who 
knew the courage of his subordinate. “But with 
the Arias it is not enough to be very brave and 
strong; one has also to be very quick on the trig- | 
ger, for they are worse than the Old Nick him- 
self.”’ , 

Amusing themselves with this kind of talk, 
they reached Itiquis about nine o’clock in the 
evening. The corporal, who brought up the 
rear with Juan Rodriguez, heard the hoof-beats 
of a horse that seemed to be overtaking them and 
which was soon abreast of the party. Villalta 
accosted the horseman, whose presence was felt, 
but whom it was impossible to distinguish, such 
was the darkness of the night. | 

“Where are you going, my friend?” 

“T’m going to La Sabanilla; and you?” 

“We are going just a little beyond here.” 

“What a pity! We ought to ride together to 
the vela* of ’Nor Juan Carvajal.” 

“Then ’Nor Juan has a vela on for to-night?” 

“Yes, and they say it’s going to be very fine. 
Good night, sefiores,” added the horseman, start- 
ing on. 


‘*Celebration in honor of a saint. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA I4I 


“May God take you safely, friend,’ replied 
Villalta. 
_ When the stranger had gone he added between 
his teeth: ““To-night we're going to catch some- 
thing. That old dolt of a Juan Carvajal isn’t 
the first fox that’s tried to fool me.” 


The “vela” of ’Nor* Juan Carvajal was very 
fine, as were all the festivals celebrated in his 
house, for besides being rich he was fond of dis- 
play; that night, however, he wished to outdo 
even himself in honor of San Jeronimo, who was 
resplendent upon an improvised altar, adorned 
with long wax candles and artificial flowers. At 
night-fall, they had commenced to set off fire- 
crackers in the corridor of the house, and out- 
- side, the sky-rockets went up with a great rush, 
tracing a line of red gold in the sky and finally 
bursting high above with a sharp noise which 
reverberated through valleys and mountains, pro- 
claiming for leagues around the glory of San 
Jeronimo and the splendor of his festival. 

When the prayers, which were long, had been 
said, the ball commenced with a mazurka, played 
by a weird kind of an orchestra, composed of a 
trombone, a clarionette and a sackbut, which 
made one of those noises that once heard can 
never be forgotten. Not less than twenty couples 
were dancing in the large room, which was 
decorated with branches of “uruca” and _ plan- 


7 hoa aa of Sefior, used by the country people of Costa 
ica, 


142 CUENTOS TICOS 


tain leaves in the doors and windows. In the 
adjoining room, upon a table covered with a 
spotless cloth, was a great quantity of crackers, 
rosquetes,* quesadillas, and sweet bread, not to 
mention two large trays full of biscuits and meat 
pies. While the young people were dancing, the 
older ones, who had prayed enough to satisfy 
their consciences, began to satisfy their stomachs 
with various delicacies and an accompaniment 
of coffee and chocolate. Many of them had made 
a regular day’s journey to come from their homes 
to that of "Nor Juan, situated in a thinly in- 
habited district at considerable distance from any 
populated place; the women in oxcarts, the men 
on horseback or on foot. 

When the mazurka was ended, ’Na Dominga, 
the wife of "Nor Juan, circulated about with a 
small tray loaded with white paper cigarettes, and 
_the dancers of both sexes began to smoke. Im- 
mediately afterwards an extraordinary ceremony 
commenced. 

“Sefiores,” said the master of the house, “let 
us adore the saint.” 

Suiting the deed to the word, he went up to 
the image and prostrating himself before it, 
kissed its feet for a long time. All the men, one 
after another, did. the same. The women 
showed themselves much less devout and there 
were only four or five who kissed the feet of San 
Jeronimo. 

A waltz followed the mazurka, and after that 


*Sweet cakes much likea by the Costa Ricans. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 143 


came a second mazurka, the dances alternating 
with an equal number of adorations of the saint; 
and, an unheard of thing! the men began to 
get tipsy without drinking, for in all the house 
there were scarcely three bottles of diluted 
“Guaro’* for the women. 

Among the women present four. or five had 
more than their share of good looks, but none of 
them could rival Maria Carvajal, the niece of 
’Nor Juan. One could not find a more beautiful 
girl in all La Sabanilla, nor in San Pedro. 
Dressed in a low-necked camisa+ covered with 
spangles, and a blue woolen skirt trimmed with 
braid, she was as fresh and dainty as a peach. All 
the young men present were hovering about her 
like bees around a flower, but hardly any of them 
succeeded in drawing very near, because the 
_ sweetheart of the girl was there beside her, a 
jealous man and of “few fleas,’ who permitted 
her to dance only with his intimate friends, keep- 
ing her for himself most of the time. 

For the fourth time he was dancing with her to 
the tune of an awful composition, in the midst of 
which one could recognize bits of a Strauss waltz,’ 
when of a sudden the music ceased with a sad 
wail from the clarionette. 

“Halt with the dancing,” cried an individual, 
standing with an insolent air in one end of the 
room. His right hand grasped the clarionette, 
which he had just snatched from the astonished 


*Brandy made from sugar cane. 

+Low-necked, short-sleeved garment worn by women of the 
Peon class. 

tA slang expression meaning short tempered. 


144 CUENTOS TICOS 


musician. The new-comer, who seemed to be 
about twenty-seven years old, was a tall, robust 
young fellow, and would have been handsome 
had his face not been disfigured by the deep scar 
of a terrible machete stroke. His eyes, of an in- 
definite color, looked about with disquieting 
insolence. He wore a short riding jacket and 
had a red silk handkerchief knotted about his 
neck. Somebody pronounced his name: “José 
Arias,” while he, quite calmly, was surveying all 
the women. He soon came to a decision, returned 
the clarionette to the terrified musician, went 
straight to, Maria Carvajal, and, pushing aside 
her sweetheart without any preamble, embraced 
the girl with his sinewy arms.and shouted : “Now 
the music, bandmaster!”’ 

The musicians did not wait for a secand order 
and began to play with ill-directed zeal, while the 
terrible contrabandist and Maria Carvajal circled 
about in the middle of the room, which became 
deserted while one could say amen. The women 
crossed themselves and called on their patron 
saints. The men, burning with wrath, went in 
search of their machetes. 

The presence of José Arias at the “‘vela” was 
entirely casual, as no inhabitant of that region 
would have cared to have such a guest in his 
house for many reasons; one of them, because 
when José Arias took it into his head to carry off 
a girl on the crupper of his horse, he carried her, 
and there was no help for it. 

That night he was passing that way with a 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 145 


comrade in adventures, when he heard the music 
and saw the lights of the “vela.” 

His first idea was to ride in on horseback, as 
he was in the habit of doing in these affairs; but 
as he was not in a hurry, he thought it was better 
to act decently, limit himself to one dance with 
the prettiest girl, and then continue his journey. 
Having taken this peaceful resolution, he told his 
companion to wait for him a moment, dis- 
mounted, took off his spurs and as he was not 
intending to start a brawl, hung them on the 
pommel of his saddle, together with the long, 
cross-hilted machete which he unfastened from 
his belt. We have already seen what José Arias 
considered good behavior. His fierce and half- 
savage nature did not recognize any formalities, 
and he knew only how to act on the impulse of 
his desires and caprices. Thus it was that he did 
not understand the extent of his aggressive act 
and was surprised to see several men enter with 
unsheathed machetes. 

“Ah, you coyotes!” he shouted, letting go of 
the girl who was trembling with fear. “Now 
you'll see who José Arias is.” 

With the quick decision of a man who feels 
no fear, he cast a glance about in search of a 
weapon with which to defend himself. Seeing 
nothing better he darted to the altar, and pulled 
off the image with one jerk. San Jeronimo was 
terribly heavy, but the contrabandist, who was 
exceptionally strong, raised it with both hands, 
and without waiting for his adversaries, started 


146 CUENTOS TICOS 


forward to attack them. These now hesitated in 
their assault, all except the sweetheart of Maria 
Carvajal, who aimed a blow at him that fell like 
an axe-stroke upon the head of the saint. 

“The Guards! The Guards!” shouted several 
voices from outside. 

As if by magic, the enemies of the contra- 
bandist slipped away. At that moment Juan 
Rodriguez entered, revolver in hand; but he 
scarcely had time to say “Surrender,” when the 
poor fellow fell with his head battered by a tre- 
mendous saint-stroke. With the agility of a deer 
José Arias passed between the surprised guards. 
A moment afterwards, he was galloping away 
saluted by the shots that Villalta and his men 
fired after him; and as some of them wanted to 
follow him to avenge Juan Rodriguez, the cor- 
poral, who knew what kind of horses the bandit 
rode, said tersely: __ 

“There’s no use, boys. Let us stay here, for 
a bird in the hand is worth more than a hundred 
flying.” 

And what a fat bird the guards had trapped! 
Nothing less than the elusive San Jeronimo, who 
lay at full length upon poor Juan Rodriguez, 
whose companions helped him to get up. The 
corporal became absorbed in examining the saint. 
Suddenly he gave a shout of joy. 

“Now I see the trick! Now I see the trick!” 
he exclaimed, at the same time moving an in- 
genious mechanism, concealed in one of the toes 
on the left foot of the image, and from which a 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA Bus ey 


little stream of contraband brandy spurted forth. 
San Jeronimo was bleeding “Guaro.”’ 

Pedro Villalta, more pleased than if he had dis- 
covered the Americas, raised the image and 
putting it again upon the altar said to his wonder- 
struck companions: 

“Boys, let us adore the saint,’”’ and in order to 
set the example he kissed with devotion the foot 
of the blessed one. — 


On the following night, while San Jeronimo, 
with his head broken, lay in his prison, the 
governor of Alajuela and his friends supped mer- 
rily, invited by the commandant of the plaza, 
who had lost his bet. 


LA POLITICA. 


(POLITICS. ) 


Y the dying light of a tallow candle, stuck in 

a bottle, Evaristo was reading with diffi- — 

culty the leaflet which had been given him 
that morning on the streets of San José. 

Seated in a large leather covered armchair, his 
father, old "Nor Juan Alvarez, gamonal* of the 
village of San Miguel, listened to the reading of 
the leaflet, which was a violent diatribe of a 
coarse nature against the candidate of the pro- 
gressive party for the next presidential cam- 
paign. The anonymous author heaped rhetorical 
injuries upon him, and called his followers trai- 
tors and slaves. These virulent expressions of 
campaign parlance did not make much of an 
impression on the mind of the. old man; all of 
that jargon was little less than Greek to him; but 
when Evaristo came to the part where it was 
said that the candidate was a heretic who never 
went to mass and would close up the churches if 
he came into power, he knit his eyebrows, dis- 
turbed and disgusted. The article ended with a 


*The leading citizen of a village. 


148 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA I49 


hyperbolical eulogy of the candidate of the op- 
posing faction called the Nationalist party, and 
the enumeration of the advantages and benefits 
which would accrue to the country on his coming 
to the presidency, among which shone in the first 
line the liberty to make brandy and plant tobac- 
co.* Guaro and tobacco free! This was the 
“in hoc signo vinces’’ of the party. 

“What a fine thing!’ exclaimed Evaristo en- 
thusiastically. “It probably isn’t true,” replied 
the old man, who was skeptical, as is natural to 
old age. “I don’t believe what these papers say.”’ 

“Well, I believe every bit of it,’ said the 
young man. “Don Manuel told me this morn- 
ing, when I was paying him the reales I owed 
him, that the National party is the good one.” 

Don Manuel was a pharmacist of San José, to 
whom Evaristo took his doubts. 

“And I tell you that you mustn't believe all 
that about free guaro and tobacco.” 

Evaristo shook his head obstinately. The old 
man continued: “I have already told you that the — 
licenciado Castrillo, who knows more than Don 
Manuel because he is a lawyer, said to me last 
week that everything the Nationalists are telling 
is a lie, and that one mustn’t pay any attention 
to it.” 

The young man did not dare to keep on reply- 
ing, but the arguments of his father did not con- 
vince him, for the reason that he considered 


*The Costa Rican government has a monopoly on the manufac- 
ture of liquor, and formerly on tobacco also. 


150 CUENTOS’ TICOS 


them partial, because the old man was a pro- 
gressist. 

Some months before the birth of the new party 
which was now making such a disturbance, the 
old man was passing one morning in front of the 
office of the jefe politico, when the latter spied 
him and made him come into his sanctum, when 
he said to him: “’Nor Juan, you are an honest, 
industrious and orderly man; everybody in San 
Miguel respects and likes you; for that reason, 
and on account of the good feeling I have 
for you, I want you to be the first to sign the 
list of adherents to the progressist candi- 
date.”’ 

The old man, disagreeably surprised, did not 
know what to answer. Motionless, with his eyes 
fastened on thé feet of the official, his opposition 
was evident, for, like.a true country man, he was 
suspicious and did not like to make promises, 
and even less to sign any agreement. The poli- 
_tician persisted: 

“Our candidate is a perfect gentleman, good 
and honorable, who will work for the well being 
of the country. You know very well that I am 
incapable of giving you bad advice.” 

As the old man still kept silent, inspecting the 
floor, the official added, after a pause: 

“Well, some other day we'll talk it over more - 
at leisure, but now let’s go and take a drink like 
good friends.” And without giving him time to 
reply, he took the gamonal’s arm familiarly and 
led him to La Sirena, the best and most elegant 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA I51I 


pulperia* of San Miguel. One hour later, "Nor 
Juan returned to his house with his ideas consid- 
erably twisted from oft-repeated glasses of rum, 
not so much so however that he could not remem- 
ber that he had returned with the politician to his 
office and that his signature was there inscribed 
on a sheet of paper, below certain written lines, 
which he could not read for the very good reason 
that he did not know how. And in this wise "Nor 
Juan Alvarez had become a progressist. With 
the bait of the gamonal’s signature, the jefe polit- 
ico was able to ensnare all the leading citizens 
of San Miguel, because ’Nor Juan always 
brought over the opinions of his fellow citizens, 
among whom ‘he enjoyed the reputation of a pru- 
dent and honest man. 

Thus it was that when afterwards the first 
emissaries of the opposing party arrived, they 
soon returned disappointed saying that nothing 
‘could be done in that village, so unanimously 
progressist in sentiment. But their labors were 
not on that account entirely fruitless. The seed 
sown sprung up in the end. There were two or 
three citizens of independent and rebellious spirit 
who enrolled themselves in the Nationalist ranks, 
and little by little those who did not like the jefe 
politico began to join them, forming altogether 
a small but turbulent group who carried on an 
active campaign; but as "Nor Juan remained im- 
movable, the majority of the village remained 
equally firm, with a few exceptions. 


*A general store in Central America, where liquors and all kinds 
of merchandise are sold. 


152 CUENTOS TICOS 


Among these was the son of the gamonal, Eva- 
risto, who had allowed himself to be seduced by 
the promises and flattery of the apostles of the 
new party; and although he continued among the 
progressists out of consideration for his father, 
in his inmost soul he was a Nationalist. 

The priest, closely watched by the jefe polit-— 
ico, was very cautious at the beginning. Neither 
did the women show any great interest in the 
affairs of politics. 

Nevertheless there came a time when one 
could notice signs of agitation among them, es- — 
pecially in the guild of church workers, these 
symptoms coinciding with certain rumors that 
the progressist candidate was nothing less than 
the Antichrist. 

As soon as he had learned of these fabulous 
stories, the jefe politico, who was not slow, hast- 
ened to inform his superiors that the priest of San 
Miguel was working in favor of the Nationalist 
candidate. 

One day the gamonal’s wife and his two daugh- 
ters, Agapita and Ester, came home very much 
scandalized by what they had heard in the street 
from their friends and village gossips, that the 
progressists were lost to salvation; that they were 
all masons; that it was not possible that their 
husband and father, so religious and so good, 
could be one of those heretic liberals, etc. 

The old man, disturbed by these things which 
the alarmed women told him, took advantage of 
én occasion when he wanted to sell’some corn to 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 153 


go to San José and consult with the licenciado 
Castrillo, the man who had his complete confi- 
dence. Castrillo was a progressist and one can 
understand that ’Nor Juan came out of his house 
somewhat more tranquil. He made this evident 
~to his family when he returned at night saying 
that they were not to give credit to any of those 
tales of masons and of shutting the churches. | 

Evaristo did not say a word. Agapita and 
Ester looked with significance at their mother, to 
incite her to answer. After a moment of silence, 
"Na Mercedes spoke: “Of course, it must be true, 
as that gentleman has said so, but what I know is 
that the people of the Centers* haven’t any relig- 
ion.”’ The gamonal made no reply, but his silence 
indicated that his wife’s remark had struck home. 
On seeing him thus, so wrapped in thought, the 
women believed that the moment had arrived for 
making a decisive attack on the vacillating mind 
of the head of the family, and they hinted to him 
that he ought to break away from the progressist 
party so as not to lose his soul. 

“T won’t change,” shouted the old man, strik- 
ing the table, on which he was leaning, with his 
fist. “I have already given my signature and 
it is settled.”’ 

On hearing the blow, the women betook them- 
selves to the kitchen in two jumps, and after that 
scene there was no more talk of parties nor of pol- 
itics, until the day when Evaristo brought the 


*(Author’s Note.) The country people of Costa Rica call those 
who live in the cities and especially persons of consequence, 
“gentes del centro” or people of the centres. 


154 CUENTOS TICOS 


leaflet from San José, after the reading of which 
the gamonal remained much preoccupied, asking 
himself if, after all, what was said in it might not 
be true, and doubts began to assail his soul. Aga- 
pita and Ester, who came in with the supper for 
the two men, succeeded in arousing their father 
from the profound meditation in which he was 
submerged. Behind them came José, a little boy 
of five years, son of Agapita, who was a widow. 
His grandfather, who was very fond of him, gave 
him a caress and seated himself at the table in. 
silence.. 

“Ave Maria purissima,” said a voice from 
outside at that moment. 

“En Gracia concebida,” replied the women. 
In the doorway was outlined the silhouette of a 
man. 

“Does the Sefior Juan Alvarez live here?” 
asked the voice. 

“Yes, sefior. Come in,” answered "Na Mer- 
cedes, who came from the kitchen. 

“May God give you a very good night,” said 
the new arrival, entering the house. ‘May the 
Lord make you all saints.” 

“Amen,” responded the family in chorus. 

“Have the goodness to be seated, Sefior,” said 
the widow, drawing up an armchair for the | 
sweet-tongued unknown. 

“Many thanks, Sefiora, but first I wish to 
know one thing: this house, is it of God, or of 
the devil?” 

“Of God, Sefior!’”’ exclaimed the frightened 
women. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 155 


“Very well, then you are of the Nationalist 
party.” 

A painful silence followed this assertion, and 
Evaristo turned to look at the old man, who low- 
ered his head before the cold glance of the un- 
known one, who continued: 

“A christian as honorable as Sefior Juan 
Alvarez can not be with the masons, who are 
going to burn the churches.”’ 

The gamonal felt terrified on hearing this. 
Then it was all true! 

“And of what party are you?” ’Na Mercedes 
mustered courage to ask. 

“TP Of the party of Our Lord. Now you 
may see my candidate—” and on saying this he 
drew a crucifix out of his breast pocket, the feet 
of which he kissed with devotion. The whole 
family remained awe-struck before that act of 
piety, and José, to see better what he had in his 
hand, ran and placed himself between the knees 
of the stranger. 

“What a beautiful child!’ exclaimed the latter, 
on seeing him. ‘What an intelligent little face 
he has. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling 
that he is going to be a priest.” 

Agapita felt like crying out for pure gratitude, 
and none of them had eyes enough to contem- 
plate that extraordinary man of such a venerable 
aspect. *Nor Juan forgot to eat his supper. In 
his clean-shaven, weather-beaten face, of the old 
Castilian type, to which he belonged by descent, 
was painted the inward conflict which he was 


156 CUENTOS TICOS 


carrying on. The gamonal belonged to the old 
race of honest country people, who never were 
false to what they had once promised by tracing 
a cross and pulling out a hair from the beard; 
and he had not only promised the jefe politico to 
support the progressist candidate, but had also 
‘mechanically signed “Juan Albares” on the list 
of adherents, and that signature he considered 
as sacred. Yet, on the other hand, how was it 
possible that he, such a good catholic, so god- 
fearing, would contribute his vote to the bringing 
into power of a man who proposed to make an 
end of religion? All the fanaticism of his race 
rose up in revolt at the sting of this thought. 
- While the gamonal was absorbed in such intri- 
cate problems, the man of the crucifix was chat-. 
ting pleasantly with the women, and made them 
presents of scapularies, with which he was well 
provided. Into the mouth of José he put a gum- 
drop, and the child, with the curiosity natural to 
his years, asked what his name was. He, giving 
him a kiss on his dirty face, told it to him; 
Simeon Garcia. 

“Ah, you are Don Simeon!” exclaimed the 
widow, opening wide her eyes. “Everybody says 
that you are a saint.” 

“T am no more than a poor sinner, who does 
not want the people to be cheated,” modestly 
responded Don Simeon. 

In the next room a child began to cry. It was 
the youngest son of Agapita, only six months 
old, who had been born after the death of his 











OXCARTS LOADED WITH COFFEE 


at. —t fe 
Te, 
ig 


fh , 
oe - 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 159 


father, which was caused by a hydropathic cure, 
- To carry out the directions of a doctor, who had 
prescribed a dozen sea baths, the man set out for 
Puntarenas, having his oxcart loaded with coffee. 
Scarcely had he delivered it at the warehouse 
when he took religiously one after another and 
on the same day the dozen baths. A little remit- 
tent bilious fever then undertook to complete the 
cure. 

Don Simeon manifested a great desire to see 
the child, and went into ecstacies over his angelic 
beauty, although in truth he was sufficiently ugly. 
The mother took’the child in her arms to quiet 
him, while ’Na Mercedes in a low tone implored 
Don Simeon to use his influence with her hus- 
band, obstinately determined to remain a pro- 
gressist. Agapita also put in her oar: “Por — 
Dios! Don Simeon, tell ‘tata’* to change.’ 

“Here is one who is all powerful,” replied the 
holy man, drawing out the crucifix again. 

When he returned to the room where the 
gamonal had remained, the latter invited him 
very cordially to supper. Scarcely had he ac- 
cepted, when the women hastened to bring out the 
very best of their good cheer to serve to so illus- 
trious a guest. Ester brought some frijolest 
that had a delicious odor, and some hot tortillas, 
"Na Mercedes a foamy cup of chocolate, which 
she herself had beaten up, and a loaf of sweet 
bread. When supper was over, the two men con- 
versed a long while alone. In the kitchen ’Na 


*(Author’s note.) Used for papa by the country people. 
7 Beans, 


160 CUENTOS TICOS 


Mercedes, Evaristo and Ester whispered, await- 
ing the result of the interview, while the widow 
lulled the baby with a monotonous song: 

“Arrurru ninito, 

Cabeza de ayote. 


Si no te dormis 
Te come el coyote.” 


When the conference was finished, "Nor Juan 
called his wife and children. When they came 
in he said to them: “Don Simeon wishes that we 
say the rosary.” 3 


The following day was Sunday. From eight 
o’clock in the morning the people who were 
going to attend the principal mass began to 
arrive at the church. The men wore their new 
jackets, Panama hats, and trousers supported at — 
the hips by colored sashes. The women were 
gay in their rebozos* of bright colored silk, their 
starched petticoats rustling loudly beneath skirts 
of alpaca or chintz, nicely ironed with much 
care. Those who came from distant points had 
their heads covered with wide brimmed Panama 
hats, and some carried parasols. From time to 
time one might see the wife and daughters of 
some prominent villager, majestically displaying 
pafiolones+ of black silk embroidered with pink 
flowers, and large necklaces and ear-rings of sil- 
ver-plated filigree. 


*Long, narrow shawls worn by women of the poor class. 
_ tLarge china silk shawls worn by the women of the upper class 
in Costa Rica. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 161 


At the second tolling of the bells Don Simeon 
arrived, very lavish with his smiles and saluta- 
tions. A little after him came the family of ’Nor 
Juan, the widow in deep mourning, Ester fresh 
and pretty as a rosebud, a nice little morsel for a 
priest, as the jefe politico, who was an unbeliev- 
ing libertine, irreverently remarked. The mass 
lasted an hour. Don Simeon edified everybody 
by his beautiful piety. 

At the moment of lifting the host the blows 
that he gave himself in the breast resounded 
throughout the whole church. There was no 
doubt of it, that man was a saint. 

The gamonal and Evaristo, seated behind him, 
could not admire enough the devout air with 
which he listened to the sermon, which that day 
was very pointed, touching upon the obligation 
which was incumbent on all the faithful to de- 
fend their religion menaced by liberals and 
masons. ‘The priest had resolutely taken off his 
mask. 

At the doors of the church various individuals 
distributed leaflets to the people as they came out 
from mass; some of the progressist party, others 
of the national. Two groups of seed-sowers, 
sent out by the rival political clubs, had taken 
possession of the plaza, each having a corner to 
itself, where the orators who were to speak were 
standing ready upon tables lent by enthusiastic 
partisans. The speakers of each party had the 
floor in turn, and the large crowd of citizens of 
San Miguel kept moving about to hear first one 


162 CUENTOS TICOS 


and then the other. Little or nothing did the 
good countrymen understand of all those ha- 
rangues, delivered with so much enthusiasm by 
the young delegates of the central clubs; but as 
the Nationalists were the ones entrusted with the 
defence of their religion, everything that they 
said seemed right, above all when they threw out 
such bits of flattery as “the people whose sover- 
eignity must be re-established, breaking the 
chains of twenty years of dictatorship, etc.” The 
last one to speak was a progressist of much elo-_ 
quence, who in concluding said: 

“What our party desires is to raise the country 
to the heights of modern civilization, continuing 
the work of former administrations which have 
already made so much progress. They tell you 
that we wish to destroy religion. It is false. In 
the first place we respect all religious beliefs, and 
above all the catholic religion, which is that of 
our fathers. You must not allow yourselves to 
be deceived by these absurd and ridiculous stories 
which hypocritical and evil disposed persons have 
undertaken to spread abroad. Because, sefiores, 
if the progressist party were what they say, there 
would not be with us such honorable and re- 
ligious men as Sefior Juan Alvarez, here 
present.” 

At that moment the gamonal was the mark 
for all glances. Wedged in among the listeners, 
he tried to hide himself to conceal his confusion. 
Then, as the crowd began to disperse, the melodi- 
ous voice of Don Simeon was heard saying: 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 163 


“Sefiores, you have already heard the arguments 
of these young gentlemen. Now let us put them 
to the proof. I ask those who wish to form part 
of the Nationalist club of San Miguel to have 
the goodness to follow me.”’ 

Three quarters of the group of citizens fol- 
lowed after Don Simeon, who on seeing that ’Nor 
Juan Alvarez, surrounded by a few faithful ones, 
did not move, added, addressing himself to him 
in an incisive tone: 

“Don’t you wish to accompany us, sefior?”’ 

The gamonal’s face grew red and he did not 
answer. The nationalist group waited. It was a 
terrible struggle that raged in the breast of the 
old countryman during those moments. 

“Yes, Don Simeon,” he finally answered. Be- 
hind him came all the rest of the people. 

“Viva "Nor Juan Alvarez!” cried an enthu- 

siast. | 
“Viva!” responded the retinue of Don Simeon, 
with a ringing shout. 

About the progressists only ten or twelve in- 
dividuals remained, among whom was the village 
school-master. 

“Miserable flock of sheep!” exclaimed one of 
the young liberals, who could not contain him- 
self. | 

“They were born to be sheared,” murmured 
another. 

Then as there was nothing to be done there 
now they went to drown their chagrin in “La 
Sirena” with some of the campaign funds. 


1604 CUENTOS TICOS 


From the memorable day on which he deserted 
the flag of the enemies of the church, ’Nor Juan 
was more than ever the king of his village. 
Elected president’of the Nationalist club of San 
Miguel, his prestige was now considerably in- 
creased in proportion to the honor which his fel- 
low citizens had conferred on him. Every little 
while pamphlets and packages of printed matter 
arrived for him, directed to Don Juan Alvarez, 
President, etc., etc., and when he went to the 
city the leading gentlemen of the party received 
him with much consideration, and even slapped 
him on the back, saying: 

“The triumph is ours. What is wanted is 
great firmness.” To which he invariably re- 
plied: | 

“Don’t worry about that. The people are solid 
for our candidate.” And this was the truth. 
Yet that which finally gave the people of San 
Miguel such a great idea of the importance of 
their gamonal, was the visit which he paid the 
candidate in company with Don Simeon. There 
was not one citizen, great or small, who did not 
know about the memorable interview with all 
its details; the glass of beer and the cigar which 
the future chief executive had given him and the 
affectionate words he had said to him. 

Nevertheless the new position of the gamonal 
was not all flowers. There was no lack of adver- 
sities to embitter his triumph; one of the most 
serious of which was the amount of money that 
his presidency cost him; dollars here to aid the 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 165 


campaign, dollars there to celebrate the happen- 
ings favorable to the cause, more dollars to get a 
friend out of the straits caused by his political 
enthusiasm, credit to fellow partisans with few 
scruples. In short, not a day passed that he did 
not have to loosen the strings of his purse. An- 
_ other mortification was the jefe politico, whose 
ironical glance he could not endure. He avoided 
meeting him, because, in spite of everything, an 
internal voice reproached him for his conduct. 
The imperturbable confidence of the official in 
the final triumph of his cause occasioned him. 
uneasiness; his mocking little smile when he 
heard the harangues and threats of the excited 
partisans he considered a bad omen, and, on ac- 
count of what might happen, he always evaded 
replying to the cutting sarcasms which his for- 
mer friend directed at him. He did not believe 
it prudent to break off entirely with that man 
who went often to the capital, who talked with 
the governor, with the minister, and even with 
the president himself. But not all the citizens 
of San Miguel had the same diplomacy as the 
gamonal. More than one, made courageous by 
numerous libations in honor of the candidate, 
had allowed himself to utter shouts and expres- 
sions prejudicial to the principal authority of the 
people. The punishment was not long in coming. 
Those who made the most disturbance went to 
reside in the cuartel. 

Evaristo, thanks to the position which his 
father had always occupied in the village and the 


166 CUENTOS TICOS 


consideration which the authorities had for him 
on that account, had not yet served his time in 
the army, and he imagined that the time for 
shouldering a gun would never arrive for him. 
Vain illusion! One day a corporal presented 
himself at the house and carried away the youth, 
with five or six others. That night "Nor Juan 
lay awake thinking that such a misfortune would 
not have happened in the days when he was on 
friendly terms with the jefe politico. 

The absence of Evaristo, who was his right: 
arm, the time which his duties as president of the 
club required, and the many expenses which the 
position caused him, brought great disorder to 
the business affairs of the gamonal, usually 
so well managed. Thus it was that as an im- 
portant note, in favor of a bank, was about to 
become due, "Nor Juan found with dismay that 
it would not be possible for him to pay it at the 
stipulated time, a thing which would happen for 
the first time in his life. Much worried, he went 
to consult the lawyer Castrillo, to ask his aid in 
getting out of the difficulty. The latter calmed 
him, advising him to request a renewal of the 
note, a thing which would not be difficult to 
obtain, considering the good reputation which his 
signature and that of his surety, Toribio Cas- 
cante, had always enjoyed. 

The gamonal went to the bank with consid- 
erable dread, for he considered it a dishonor to 
ask for a renewal. The manager, who always 
had treated him with much deference, as is cus- 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 167 


tomary in banks when dealing with persons who 
have money, received him this time with coldness 
and reserve. "Nor Juan explained the situation to 
him, making plain that his financial distress was 
but temporary, but the manager, who had lis- 
tened to him absent-mindedly, cut him short, say- 
ing dryly: “I am very sorry, Sefor Alvarez, but 
it is impossible. You understand that the bank 
is obliged to be very prudent, in view of the dis- 
agreeable aspect political affairs are assuming.” 
These last words were said with a certain signifi- 
cant tone. The countryman went out ashamed 
and with tears in his eyes; still, as it was neces- 
sary to pay, he had to seek for the money in 
another direction. A coffee buyer promised it to 
him, but it was not possible to finish the matter, 
because Toribio Cascante did not wish to con- 
tinue acting as security for his friend, whom he 
reproached for going into politics, which was a 
bad thing he said. There was then no other 
remedy than to go to a money lender, who let 
him have the money on a mortgage at a very 
high rate of interest. 

“Tf you hadn’t been so stupid as to go into 
politics’—the lawyer said to him, when they 
went out of the money lender’s house—‘‘the 
thing could have been arranged in the bank; but, 
my friend, you have allowed yourself to be fool- 
ishly deceived by the Nationalists, and now you 
must take the consequences.” 

These words made the gamonal discern that, 
if politics for a certain few is a source of profit 


168 CUENTOS TICOS 


and satisfaction, for the majority it brings only 
sorrows and tribulations. The joy of triumph 
came to sweeten somewhat the bitterness caused 
him by the misfortunes which have been related. 
It is true that Evaristo remained in the cuartel 
and a ruinous mortgage weighed upon his coffee 
plantation, La Lima, but, on the other hand, it 
was a great pleasure to have conquered, to have 
saved religion, the supremacy of the people, men- 
aced by those bandits of progressists. And what 
a splendid victory was that of the National party . 
in San Miguel! In vain were all the efforts and 
threats of the jefe politico. It was of no avail 
that the progressists, who were in the majority 
at the electoral table, took the first two days of 
the elections to inscribe the fourteen votes which 
remained to their party in the village. The mass 
of the good people, who, restrained by organized 
force, were awaiting their turn with impatience, 
was finally able to reach the table on the last day, 
drowning in an instant with the tide of their 
votes the poor little fourteen of their adversaries. 
And what tenacity those enemies of God had, for 
did they not try to take by force that which the 
ballot-boxes had denied them? When this hap- 
pened, "Nor Juan Alvarez was one of the first to © 
rush to the defence of the imperilled reward at 
the head of the men of San Miguel, and passed a 
whole night laying siege to the capital, disposed 
to make the constitution respected and also to 
run away should the troops draw near. Still, one 
could not ask more of a man armed only with a 
machete. | ae 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 169 


At last came the great day of the final triumph. 
The gamonal, who was ordinarily very self-con- 
tained, could not resist the desire to celebrate 
worthily the advent of the executive of his choice. 
When at night he returned to San Miguel, after 
the illuminations and fire-works, in company with 
his faithful fellow villagers he entered the village 
like a mad man, shouting and executing pir- 
ouettes on horseback. In one of these the animal 
slipped and fell, breaking one of his master’s legs. 
"Nor Juan was laid up more than three months 
and spent a considerable sum of money on doc- 
tor’s visits, only to remain lame after all. 

At the outset, “Nor Juan Alvarez recovered 
his former influence with the new jefe politico. 
This however did not last long, for, greatly to 
the scandal of all the good citizens who had aided 
in creating the new régime, the official was not 
long in getting on friendly terms with the pro- 
gressists of San Miguel, especially with the pro- 
prietor of La Sirena, who had been the head of 
the party there. According to what the evil 
tongues said, the astute shopkeeper gave on 
credit to the politician all the cognac that he could 
drink, so that six months after the great triumph, 
which had cost so much labor, those who really 
governed the village were the keeper of the pul- 
peria and his friends, with great detriment to the 
conquerors. The disgusted villagers complained 
among themselves, and there were even some who 
missed the former jefe politico, who after all was 
amiable and obliging. An anonymous letter 


170 CUENTOS TICOS 


against the new man, which a daily paper of the 
capital published, finished the work of spoiling 
things, strengthening the union of the official and 
the progressists, who wrote another letter in 
which they hotly defended him and censured the 
wayward and rebellious spirit of certain citizens 
of San Miguel, who aspired only to command. 

The relations between the jefe politico and the 
villagers became embittered to such a degree that 
"Nor Juan Alvarez, at the request of many of the 
citizens, resolved to make use of his influence 
with the president to have the official removed 
from office. 

He set out one morning, full of confidence, 
remembering the cordiality of the reception 
which the president had given him when he was 
a candidate. As he was riding to the city, 
the details of the interview came to his mind; the 
friendly words, the cigar, the glass of beer, the 
protests of good will. “As soon as I talk to him 
everything will be arranged,” thought the gam- 
onal, as he sat in the antechamber, in. company 
with ten or twelve other persons. After three 
hours of waiting, his confidence was not so 
great, and when his turn arrived, and an aid 
directed him to enter the office of the chief of the 
government, he completely lost his former self- 
confidence. One glance sufficed to inform him 
that the man before him was not now the good- 
natured, smiling candidate, who had received 
him with so much affability. Cold and grave, his 
glance calmly inquiring, the president asked him 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 171 


the motive of his visit. “Nor Juan, much 
disturbed, explained to him, timidly and with 
hesitation, the legitimate complaints of the Na- 
tionalists in San Miguel against the jefe politico, 
and their desire that he be removed. With unex- 
pected severity, the magistrate rebuked him for 
the spirit of rebellion which the people of San 
Miguel had been showing for some time, and, in- 
sisted on the necessity of respecting the authori- 
ties. Then he said that he knew the jefe politico 
personally, that he was a good man and worthy 
of his entire confidence, incapable of abusing it; 
that his relations with the progressists were far 
from constituting a fault, rather it was a proof 
of his amiable and conciliatory disposition. 
Moreover, it was well that things were as they 
were, for the country was desirous of tranquillity, 
and the hatreds stirred up by the electoral battle 
should be fergotten. The countryman went out 
from the interview much crestfallen and returned 
to his village with his ears drooping. 


To the enthusiasm of the conflict and the joy 
of victory in San Miguel succeeded the most bit- 
ter disenchantment.. The chains of twenty years 
of dictatorship were to have been broken, the 
sovereignity of the people was to have been re- 
established, the slothful men of the former 
administrations were to have been swept aside, 
but the truth was that everything remained the 
same. Religion was not triumphant, nor were 


172 CUENTOS TICOS 


“guaro”’ and tobacco free, nor had anyone a 
dollar more in his pocket. What had the citizens 
of San Miguel gained by the change? To be sure 
they had been given a new jefe politico. A great 
gain indeed, since everybody was anxious to have 
him leave! The progressists laughed at the dis- 
satisfaction of their adversaries, and when the 
latter complained of having been cheated with 
false promises, they answered: “They were right 
in taking you for fools. If our candidate were 
in power it would be-another cock that is crow- 
ing. At least you would not have this jefe politi- 
co who bothers you so much.” In all the village 
the only one who said nothing was Toribio Cas- 
cante, the former surety of "Nor Juan Alvarez. 
He neither despised the jefe politico nor desired 
the return of the former one, nor clamored for 
the promised suppression of the monopoly on 
brandy and tobacco. This rustic philosopher had 
never believed in any of the promises of the 
parties that were contending for power; and 
while the others lost time in talking, in agitating 
themselves, in drinking, he kept quietly on with 
his farm labor and habitual tasks, without worry- 
ing over the fact that they called him “pancista,”* 
and said he was of the cat party, that is to say, 
one of those who always land on their feet. It 
was thus that his affairs had prospered. The cof- 
fee plantation gave good returns, the cattle were 
bursting with fatness, and every Saturday he re- 
turned from the market with his pockets full of 


*One who is on the fence, 














A COFFEE TREE IN BLOSSOM 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 175 


money. In contrast with this pleasing situation, 
that of "Nor Juan Alvarez was more distressing 
each day. The enormous interest that the money 
lender charged was an ulcer that was eating away 
his fortune, already so impaired. The small crop 
which La Lima produced, on account of lack of 
assistance during the absence of Evaristo, com- 
pleted the work of demoralizing things, and the 
gamonal, seeing that he was on the road to inevi- 
table ruin, began to lose heart. 

“Toribio Cascante is the only one who can get 
me out of these difficulties,’ he used often to 
say in the bosom of his family, but since the 
wealthy philosopher had refused to keep on act- 
ing as his security the relations between the two 
neighbors and friends had grown cool. This did 
not prevent Cascante from making prudent obser- 
-vations, when ’Nor Juan became a member of the 
Orthodox League, a clerical association whose 
ramifications extended throughout the whole 
country like the tentacles of a monstrous octopus, 
a branch of which the priest had just founded in 
San Miguel. The citizens, discontented with the 
government and having still fresh in their imag- 
inations the stupid arguments with which the 
nationalists had awakened their dormant  re- 
ligious fanaticism, rallied with enthusiasm to the 
new standard. ’Nor Juan Alvarez was elected 
president of the orthodox club, and each day 
conceived a greater liking for politics. Neverthe- 
less, when the priest told him that the cause of 
religion was very poor and that it was necessary 


176 CUENTOS TICOS 


for all true believers to make a pecuniary sacri- 
fice in order to help their triumph, he felt as 
though they had dashed a bucket of cold water 
over him. He stammered a few excuses and 
vague explanations about his embarrassed finan- 
cial situation. But the priest, who knew the 
habitual avarice of the country people, replied . 
indignantly that as a rich and influential man he 
had to set the example; that his fondness for 
worldly things was a great sin in the eyes of God, 
who had heaped good things upon him; that our 
Lord returns a hundred fold the alms that are 
given him, and that it would not be a bad thing 
for him to look a little more after his soul’s salva- 
tion. The old man, with grief in his heart, had to 
detach himself from a considerable sum. A little 
while afterwards the opportunity presented itself 
for testing the enormous political power which 
the Orthodox League represented. 

The time had arrived for renewing half of the 
congress, and the real leaders behind the scenes 
who pulled the wires of the association felt sure 
of the triumph of the clerical ticket. 

In the morning of the day appointed for the 
voting, the electors of San Miguel, who had con- 
fessed the evening before, received the sacrament 
very early before setting out on what the priest 
compared to a new crusade. At the front went 
the gamonal, who, during the whole trip, did not 
cease to admonish them to follow faithfully the 
instructions which the priest had given them. 
Everybody proclaimed his obedience with much 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 177 


warmth, but on arriving at the capital, each hav- 
ing in his pocket ‘the neatly folded list which had 
just been given him at the central club of the 
league, their firmness had to withstand a rude 
assault. Gathered there were all the most influ- 
ential men of the nationalist and progressist 
parties working together for one and the same 
ticket which was opposed to'that of the clergy. 
The countryman looked with stupefaction at the 
intimate union of ‘men, who, two years before, 
had been desirous of killing each other and had 
called one another bandits and scoundrels in the 
newspapers, in the clubs and in public places. 
Well did Toribio Cascante say that the people 
who wore frock coats* were all the same kind of 
monkeys with different tails. There was one mo- 
ment when the gamonal himself felt that he was 
faltering, and that was when Don Simeon and 
the lawyer Castrillo tried to dissuade him from 
voting for the league. Don Simeon confabulat- 
ing with the masons! What was the world com- 
ing to, when even the saints were turning against 
God! But the gamonal was too religious to break 
a promise made under the auspices of the sacra- 
ment of the confession and the mystery of the 
eucharist. So the seductive voice of Don Simeon 
uttered his best arguments in vain; ’Nor Juan 
Alvarez remained firm as a rock. Contrary to 
the hope of the clericals, their ticket was defeated 
throughout almost the whole country, owing to 
the coalition of the advanced elements, and in 


*In Spanish “gente de levita.”” The Sp sviids people of Costa Rica 
thus refer to the upper class. 


178 CUENTOS TICOS 


great part also to the numerous desertions from 
the ranks of the league at the last hour. : 

Nevertheless the triumph was by a small mar- 
gin and the clerical propaganda continued more. 
active and powerful than ever, aided by the dis- 
cords of the liberals, who broke forth into dis- 
sentions again at the very time of their victory, 
forgetting the famous motto: “In union there is 
strength.” The league, concealing its rancor, 
offered its aid to the weak and wavering admin- 
istration, which, making certain concessions, 
hastened to accept it. This state of affairs, how- — 
ever, could not last long, because the league felt 
itself sufficiently vigorous to get on alone and 
repulsed the idea of adopting a political head 
which was not selected freely by itself from 
among the most docile and inane. Of the four- 
teen progressists of San Miguel, some had joined — 
the league. The rest did not know which of 
the liberal candidates to choose, because the lat- 
ter, not to go back on their custom, were at log- 
gerheads. Therefore when the elections came 
the triumph of the clerical party there, as well as 
in all the rest of the country, was astonishing. 
The gamonal rubbed his hands together with 
pleasure, thinking that this time, with the coming 
into power of his friends, who had promised to 
aid him, he was going to get out of debt. The 
priest could scarcely contain himself in his skin, 
considering as good as abolished all those hateful — 
laws made by those demons of liberals; the secu- 
larization of cemeteries, laical education, civil 














TROOP OF CAVALRY PASSING CENTRAL PARK 


2 re 


Fee ey ee 
pe Ae Te el eee 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA ISI 


marriage and so on; but above all he rejoiced in 
the blessed re-establishment of the tithes, offer- 
ings of first-fruits and other sinecures, although 
he thought it more prudent to say nothing to 
his parishioners. on this point. But the illusions 
of the members of the league were not to last 
long. In the midst of their rejoicing they forgot 
that in the admirable hand which they held there 
was one card lacking. Their adversaries, on the 
other hand, had only one, but that was the best, 
or the worst, as you prefer—the trump of 
swords.* In the final elections the league was 
beaten, or more correctly, they were told that 
they were beaten, so that their fusion with those 
who had before been their worst enemies profited 
them nothing. They tried to re-enact the famous 
farce played four years ago by the national 
party. Poor Orthodox League! They forgot 
that the progressists, those monsters of iniquity, 
who after all were only sheep in wolves’ cloth- 
ing, tyrants who did not shed blood, were not 
now in power. The clericals learned on this 
Occasion, with some detriment to their ribs, that 
everything varies as the glass through which one 
looks. The cavalry took charge of gathering 
in the excited countrymen who were trying 
to remember those patriotic songs about the re- 
stored sovereignty of the people, of the breaking 
of the chains of twenty years of dictatorship, 
and others not less pretty, forgetting that it is 


*There is a play on words here that cannot be translated into 
English. In a Spanish pack of cards the suit, corresponding to 
spades, is called ‘‘Espadas” or “Swords.” 


182 CUENTOS TICOS 


quite another thing when sung with the guitar. 
Evaristo, "Nor Juan, the priest, and some more 
from San Miguel, went to take up their abode in 
the various prisons in which some nationalists of 
last year acted as hosts to their former fellow 
partisans, doubtless to recompense them for havy- 
ing believed in their promises. The women were 
left to die, as is natural, thinking of their hus- 
bands, fathers, sons and brothers. 

In the house of ’Nor Juan the affliction was 
greater than ever, because the usurer, holder of 
the mortgage which hung over La Lima, had just 
commenced suit for non-payment, at that time so 
full of distress for them. By the gateway of 
politics all the misfortunes of that peaceful home 
had entered. A week passed without their being 
able to learn anything of the prisoners. The wife 
and daughters of the gamonal had gone twice to 
San José, in search of news, but all their efforts 
had been in vain, and they had had to return 
-more disheartened than ever, after having looked 
at the silent walls of the different prisons, for they 
did not even know in which of them the two men 
were. Alarming rumors concerning the prison- 
ers were rife among the people and the poor 
women were in despair when they heard them. 
Toribio Cascante advised them to ask the jefe 
politico to use his influence in favor of the prison- 
ers, and the proprietor of La Sirena, who was a 
leading man in the new party which had just 
been born out of nothing, promised to help their 
petition with his powerful influence. *Na Mer- 











Lott) 
St 
ee 


2 oR 


—— 


7 


cr Anite” al 





OXCARTS ON A COUNTRY ROAD 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA © 185 


cedes went very humbly to see the official, accom- 
panied by her daughter Ester, who was not now 
the rosebud which the former jefe politico had 
so much admired, but a beautiful flower that in- 
flamed the desires of the new one. The poor 
old woman begged in tears for the compassion 
of the man who was able to return her husband 
and son to her, and he, without promising any- 
thing, said that he would see, that he would talk 
it over, but that the thing was very difficult, inas- 
much as both father and son were much involved 
in that terrible attempt against law and order, 
which it had been necessary to drown in blood. 
As the women were leaving, the jefe politico took 
advantage of the moment when ’Na Mercedes 
was going out first, to say to Ester: 

“Come back alone and we will talk about it.” 


Early in the morning, the family of the 
gamonal set out from San Miguel. The three 
women and the youngest child of the widow were 
- riding in the oxcart which Evaristo was driving, 
with his goad on his shoulder. Behind came 
"Nor Juan Alvarez and his grandson José, on 
foot. All remained silent, oppressed with a great 
sadness, because they had to leave that well- 
beloved village, where they had enjoyed good 
fortune and plenty for so many-years. But the 
usurer had been implacable and the auction of 
La Lima had taken place. Toribio Cascante had 
bought it for a third of its value, because as he 
said, ‘““Business is business.”’ 


186 CUENTOS TICOS 


Deeply affected by the loss of his beloved coffee 
plantation, the gamonal did not wish to keep on 
living in San Miguel, although he still had his 
house and another small bit of land. He sold 
everything, so as to go and establish himself in a 
distant place where he had a tract of uncultivated 
land among the mountains. When he passed in 
front of La Lima, that fine coffee plantation 
which twenty years before he had set out with 
his own hands, a tear rolled down the weather- 
beaten cheeks of the poor old man. He could 


scarcely believe that that fertile land was no- 


longer his. The little child was sleeping in the 
lap of its mother. José, with the indifference of 
childhood, was amusing himself with the. inci- 
dents of the road, making the dogs bark or 
throwing pebbles at the chickens which were 
scratching about. At the top of the hill called 
Jocote the travellers halted. In the centre of the 
smiling valley which lay spread out at their feet 
could be seen a white dot,—it was the church of 


San Miguel. The gamonal contemplated it for a _ 


long time with deep emotion, and after a while 
he exclaimed with resignation : 
‘‘God be praised that he oppresses but does not 


crush entirely. If it had not been for the jefe 


politico, who knows where Evaristo and I would 
be now! God be praised that he so orders it that 
there are still good souls in this world.” 

Ester, who had heard these words, sighed 
deeply. She alone knew what it had cost that 
there ‘might still be good souls in the world.” 


-* 


HIDALGUIA. 
(CHIVALRY ) 


NE night in the month of July four horse- ° 

men, well mounted, emefged from an 

hacienda in Uruca* and rode hurriedly 
along the highway to thé joining of the road to 
San Antonio de Belen, where they stopped. 

“Here we must separate,’ said one of them. 
“May you have good luck, Ramon,” he added 
~ searching in the darkness for his friend’s hand. 

“Adios, Salvador, adios,” replied the one 
spoken to, in a voice trembling with emotion. The 
two men, without letting go of each other’s 
hands, drew together until their stirrups touched, 
and embraced warmly. 

“Adios, adios’— ‘Good luck.” 

After a last embrace, long and affectionate, 
both started off in different directions, each es- 
corted by one of the two horsemen who had just | 
witnessed the sad scene of farewell. Those who 
followed the highroad did not get very far. At 
the Ciruelas river they fell into the hands of a 
picket of soldiers who carried them prisoners to 

*A district near San José, 


187 


188 CUENTOS TICOS 


the Cuartel of Alajuela. The other two fugi- 
tives, for fugitives they were, kept on, with bet- 
ter fortune, along the San Antonio road.* The 
darkness did not permit them to see where they 
were going, so that the travellers had to trust 
to the instinct of their horses to avoid the bad 
places or to get out of them. Luckily it did not 
rain, which would have been one more hindrance 
to the rapid march that the critical situation in 
which Salvador Moreno found himself neces- 
sitated, for he was being eagerly searched for on 
account of his share in the attack made the night © 
before on the Cuartel Principal+ in San José. 
The revolutionary uprising had failed through 
the fault of those who were to have brought | 
men from the neighboring towns, with the in- 
tention of arming them when the Cuartel had 
surrendered, and of laying siege to the other 
ones. | 

Not one of them appeared at the critical mo- 
ment, and the few valiant ones who had surprised 
the garrison asleep at two o'clock in the morn- 
ing, had to abandon at daybreak the conquest 
which had cost them so much blood. 

Salvador did not answer the questions which 
from time to time his companion asked him. 
Absorbed in his thoughts he lived over again the 
happenings of last night’s bloody drama; the 
meeting in the house of one of the conspirators, 
the irritating wait for those who did not come, 


*This road which is little travelled, rejoins the main highway to 
Puntarenas near the Rio Grande. 
+Headquarters barracks. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 189 


the fear of a betrayal, the doubts and hestitations 
of the last hour, finally the moment of march- 
ing, the gate of the Cuartel opened by the hand 
of a traitor, the hand to hand fight with the 
guard, the gallantry of the officers meeting death 
at their posts. But more than all there harassed 
him the vision of a young lieutenant running up 
hurriedly,~sabre-inhand, to aid his comrades, 
whom he had laid low by a shot at barely arm’s 
length range. In vain he tried to make himself 
believe that it was a legitimate act of warfare. 
An internal voice cried out in the tribunal of his 
conscience against the blood that had been shed. 
Salvador Moreno was a high-strung, refined man 
to whom the brutality of force was repugnant. 
At the same time his indomitable and lofty spirit 
could not bend itself to the political despotism 
which is killing us like a shameful chronic sore. 
In the conspiracy he had seen the shaking off of 
the heavy yoke, the dignity of his country 
avenged, and the triumph of liberty. To gain. 
all that, the sacrifice of his life had not seemed 
too much. Now his sorrow was very great, his 
patriotic illusions had disappeared like the 
visions of a beautiful dream when one awakens, 
and his heart was throbbing with wrath against 
those who through their cowardice had caused 
the daring attempt to fail. With keen regret he 
thought of his comrades uselessly sacrificed, of 
the agony of a brave young fellow whom he 
had carried out of the cuartel in his arms, mor- 
tally wounded. Clear and exact the events of the 


190 CUENTOS TICOS 


combat went marching through his mind, some — 


of which were atrocious, worthy of savages, 
others irresistibly comical, like that of the boast- 
ful fellow who withdrew from the gate of the 
cuartel to go in search of his revolver which he 
pretended to lave forgotten; and always, per- 
sistent and sad, the vision of the lieutenant 
falling without a cry, his hand. at his_ breast. 
Afterwards the despair at the failure, the retreat 
at daybreak through the deserted streets of the 


capital, the interminable hours of anguish, hid- | 
den with Ramon Solares under some sacks in’ 


the country house of a friend, listening to the 
voices of those who were searching for them. 
Finally the sheltering night, the hurried flight, 
the gloomy future, forbidding as the wrath of the 
enraged dictator. In order to aid their escape 
the fugitives had agreed to follow different 
roads; Salvador Moreno chose the one to Pun- 
tarenas,* passing through San Antonio de Belen, 
and the plains of Carmen. Ramon Solares pre- 
ferred the San Carlost+ route, with the idea of 
seeking refuge in Nicaragua by land, where the 
two friends were to meet if Salvador should suc- 
ceed in escaping the vigilance of the authorities 
of the port. 

Both were accompanied by trusty retainers 
who knew the country and were of proved cour- 
age. It was Fate that decided in this case, and 
we have already seen that she declared in favor 


*The port on the Pacific. Coast of Costa_Rica. 
j +A river in the northern part of. Costa Rica flowing into the San 
uan. 


—— 


SVNAYVINOd dO LIs V 























STORIES OF COSTA RICA 193 


of Salvador Moreno, who without meeting a 
soul, arrived at the highroad to Puntarenas at 
one o'clock in the morning, while his friend, 
chained in his prison, offered prayers that he 
might succeed in escaping from those who pur- 
sued him. At three o'clock he passed through 
Atenas and at six in the morning he and his 
companion arrived at the gates of San Mateo,* 
but now the horses could endure no more. It was 
part of the fugitive’s plan to pass the day hidden 
in a friendly and secure house on the plains of 
Surubres, although now this was not possible, 
on account of the fatigue of the horses and the 
danger of the young conspirator’s being recog- 
nized in passing through the village, in spite of 
the fact that he was wearing the costume of a_ 
countryman.+ It was necessary then to decide 
on something. 

“Don Salvador,” said the guide, “three hun- 
dred yards from here there lives an acquaintance 
of mine, who is a man you can trust. If you like 
we can dismount there, so that we shan’t have to 
pass through San Mateo in the daytime.” 

“Very well, let us go there.” 

The two men spurred their horses and a few 
minutes afterwards arrived at a house situated — 
a short distance from the road. Through the 
unbarred gate they entered, saluted by the bark- 
ing of three thin, mangy dogs. At this disturb- 


*Between Atenas and San Mateo the highroad crosses a range 
of mountains. 

yIn Costa Rica the country people wear a costume quite different 
from that of the upper class. The men wear short roundabout 
geceets and colored sashes about the waist to support the panta- 
oons. 


194 CUENTOS TICOS 


ance an old and corpulent countryman came out 
on the veranda. 
“Buenos dias, "Nor José,’ said the guide. 
“Buenos dias, Pedro,” replied the old man. 
“How goes it?” : 




















ON THE OLD HIGHWAY TO PUNTARENAS 


“Well; and how are you? How are the girls 
getting on?” | 

“Very well, thank you. Why don’t you get off 
a while and rest?” added the old fellow. 

The horsemen dismounted and _ Salvador 
dropped, half dead with fatigue, on the settle 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 195 


that stood on the veranda. While he was stretch- 
ing his aching legs, "Nor José and Pedro unsad- 
dled the horses and the latter confided to the old 
man that his companion was fleeing the country. 
Hurriedly he told him a story which he made up 
as he went on; something about a quarrel in 
which machetes had been flourished in the air. 
The old man did not insist on the details, prom- 
ising to keep quiet about the unlooked for guests 
in his house. 

Pedro went to take the horses to the pasture 

and Salvador accepted with pleasure the coffee 
which the youngest daughter of "Nor José served 
him. The old man was proud of having for a 
son-in-law the jefe politico* of San Mateo, who 
had married his oldest daughter, a handsome 
girl, so people said. Noticing that his guest was 
getting sleepy he conducted him to a cot bed 
that he might rest. 
_ Five minutes afterwards the fugitive was 
sleeping like a log. The night came on without 
Salvador’s awakening from the deep slumber into 
which he had fallen, his bones aching and his 
nerves being unstrung by the fatigue and emo- 
tions he had endured. 

Pedro had improved the time by bathing the _ 
horses in the neighboring river and giving them 
a good feed of corn. This task ended, he took 
a nap for a couple of hours, which was sufficient 
to restore to his muscles the’ necessary energy ;. 


*The chief official of a town in Spanish America, similar to the 
office of mayor in the United States. 


196 CUENTOS TICOS 


and as it was now two o’clock in the afternoon, 
he shared the frugal dinner of his host. 

On hearing the church bells of San Mateo 
tolling “Las Animas” he resolved to awaken Sal- 
vador, which was not an easy thing to do. For 
all that he shook him, it was impossible to over- 
come the stupor which held him fast. Finally he 
opened his eyes, looking about in a dazed way 
without comprehending, until Pedro’s voice in- 
sisting on the urgency of taking the road made 
him remember the reality of the situation. Sal- 
vador got up with difficulty; each movement that 
he made aroused a dormant pain in his body, 
which was agitated by a painful, feverish sensa- 
tion. A little glass of cognac produced the nec- 
essary reaction and the odor of supper already 
served began to remind him that he had been 
fasting for many hours. 

While Salvador was devouring a chicken, 
which at Pedro’s request the daughter of ’Nor 
José had cooked, the latter, seated on a bench, 
observed him closely. Naturally keen, he had 
scented the fact that beneath the short jacket was 
hidden a person who was not accustomed to wear 


it. The attentiveness of Pedro to Salvador, the 


respect with which he talked to him, were indica- 
tions that this man belonged to a higher class of 
society than his garb would imply. This was 
evident; but looking well at the matter, what 
difference did it make to him that the stranger 
was who he was? A five dollar bill which Sal- 
vador put in his hand, completely confirmed the 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 197 


old man’s suspicions. In a little while Pedro 
entered to give notice that the horses were ready 
and Salvador, in bidding farewell, warmly 
squeezed the hand of his chance host, who almost 
fell over himself in his salutations and wishes for 
a safe journey. They were already going out 
to the veranda, when a boy came running up 
with the news that "Nor José’s oldest daughter 
was very ill. About to give birth to a child 
she had suffered a fall with bad _ conse- 
quences. 

‘The old man was very much alarmed and Sal- 
vador tried to calm him, advising him to call a 
doctor. 

“We have no doctor here,” replied "Nor José, 
much distressed, ‘and while one is coming from 
Alajuela the girl may die.” 

Salvador, who was a warm-hearted fellow, did 
not hesitate a moment. 

“Let us go and see her,” he said. “I am a 
doctor.”’ 

The old man, surprised and pleased, did not 
know what to say. 

“May God pay you, sefior, may God pay 
you!” he finally murmured with tears in his eyes. 
Pedro, plainly anxious, improved the moment 
when the countryman went to get his hat and 
call his daughter, to whisper in Salvador’s ear 
that the sick woman was no less than the wife of 
the jefe politico, who must already have had or- 
ders to capture him. 

“No matter, Pedro. It is my duty not to 


99 


198 CUENTOS TICOS 


allow this poor woman to die. Let us go at 
once.” 

The old man, who returned hurriedly, heard 
these last words. ‘‘May God pay you, sefior,” he 
said again in a low voice. Pedro took the old 
man behind him on the crupper and Salvador the 
girl. After fifteen minutes of fast riding, the 
four stopped in front of the jefe politico’s office. 

. The house was full of gossipers of the neigh- 
borhood, who had come in armed with infallible 
remedies which they were anxious to apply to. 
the sufferer. The friends of the jefe politico, 
gathered together in the dining-room about a 
bottle of white rum, told discreetly, for the com- 
fort of the official, of similar cases which finally 
had ended happily. 

The arrival of her father and sister called 
forth a groan from the sick one, who in her role 
of a first-time mother considered herself as good 
as dead. | 

“Enter, enter, doctor!’ exclaimed the old man, 
politely addressing the fugitive, whom nobody 
in the midst of the general confusion had as yet 
noticed. Judging by his costume, those present 
took him for one of those country quacks who 
live on the ignorance and avarice of the country 
people. Salvador examined the sick woman care- 
fully and was convinced that, although the case 
- was a serious one, it would not be difficult to save 
her. Without loss of time he took such measures 
as the circumstances demanded, and from that 
moment he thought only of the life of the little 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 199 


human creature which depended on his care. In 
vain Pedro reminded him many times of the 
great peril he was incurring in that house; noth- 
ing could make him withdraw. 

"Nor José and the jefe politico, feeling more 
at ease after hearing the doctor’s opinion, went 
to join the circle of friends, who had already 
given a good account of the first bottle of rum. 
When the second was opened, tongues began to 
get loosened, and the conversation acquired an 
animation which it lacked at the beginning. 

Incidentally they talked of the revolution 
which had just taken place and ’Nor José, who, 
on account of the isolation in which he lived, was 
ignorant of it all, made them tell him of what 
had happened, listening to the story with anxiety. 
On learning that it was the Cuartel Principal 
which had been attacked, he asked his son-in-law 
whether he had news of Rafael, his son, who 
was one of the garrison. 

“T don’t know anything about him,’ replied 
the jefe politico. “I suppose that there is no 
news since they have not sent me any word. 
Nevertheless in order to feel easy I am going to 
telegraph to San José.” 

When the despatch was written it was sent to 
the telegraph office. 

Salvador did not leave his patient, encouraging 
her with cheering words to bear her pains with 
fortitude. Pedro, ill at ease, was watching the 
street, near the horses which were dozing with 
their heads low down. 


200 CUENTOS TICOS 


At ten o'clock at night a long telegram came | 
for the jefe politico. As he was reading it his 
hands trembled slightly. Suddenly a violent 
exclamation broke from his lips. 

On hearing it, the people present got up as 
though to ask the cause, but the jefe politico 
without speaking a word conducted his father-in- 
law to a neighboring room. There, without any 
preamble, he told him that his son had been 
killed in the attack of the night before, and that 
Doctor Salvador Moreno was supposed to have | 
been his slayer, and that he was then trying to 
escape from the country. 

The poor old man, falling limp into a chair, 
wept bitterly over the death of his son. After 
a while he aroused himself with an expression 
of unspeakable wrath and the tears dried up in 
his eyes, which now shone like red-hot coals. 
“Salvador Moreno,” he murmured in a hoarse 
voice, “I won’t forget that name.” 

“T have heard it,” said the jefe politico. “TI 
believe it is that of a young doctor recently come 
back from Europe.” 

One of the women neighbors interrupted the 
conversation with the glad news of the birth of a 
strong and healthy man-child. Both were going 
in to see it, but it was not yet time for them to 
enter. 

Pedro, always uneasy, had hardly heard the 
news when he went in search of "Nor José to ask 
him to remind his companion of the urgency of 
starting. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 201 


“Tell Don Salvador that it is already very 
late and that I am waiting for him,” he said for- 
getting to use the assumed name. On hearing 
this name the old man became petrified. Then 
he exclaimed with fury, 

“Don Salvador! Don Salvador Moreno! 
That is the doctor’s name, isn’t it so?” 

“Yes. Did he tell you?” 

Without replying, "Nor José went to a corner 
of the room where a machete was leaning against 
the wall. He drew it from its scabbard and with 
an expression of unheard-of ferocity, went 
toward the apartment of his daughter. 

At that moment the door opened. Upon the 
bed lay the mother, very pale, but her eyes and 
lips were smiling. With his sleeves rolled up 
and absorbed in his task, Salvador was bathing 
the new born child in a wash basin. On seeing 
this the angry father felt a surge of generous 
feeling invade his heart. That man was the 
slayer of his Rafael; that was the terrible truth; 
but that same man who had shed the blood of 
his son had just saved another bit of his soul 
at the risk of his liberty and perhaps of his very 
life. He stood looking at the peaceful scene; the 
happy mother, the anxious and busy neighbors, 
and the doctor, very earnest, coddling the child, 
whose cries seemed to ask pardon for the saviour 
of its mother. 

The old man drew back slowly, letting go of 
the machete. After a moment of hesitation, he 
passed his rough hand across his face and draw- 


202 CUENTOS TICOS 


ing near to the fugitive said in a hoarse and 
trembling voice, 

“Don Salvador, I beg you to go soon, because 
you are in great danger in this house.” 


LA BOTIJA. 


(THE BURIED TREASURE. ) 


URING forty-five years of labor and 

privations, ’Nor Ciriaco Badilla had 

amassed a fortune, the value of which he 
himself did not know, but which according to 
appearances was of more than ordinary size. He 
was known to have much ‘real property, coffee 
plantations, pastures, lands sown with various 
crops, many cattle; and it was known that he 
always had considerable money on deposit in the 
bank, in addition to the gold, which according 
to common report he kept carefully buried. He 
was also in the habit of lending money upon 
mortgages, with two sureties, and for the moder- 
ate interest of two per cent a month. 

"Nor Ciriaco was a model for peasants. Out 
of bed before sunrise, he went to his rude tasks 
with untiring patience, until night in summer, or 
the rain in winter* compelled him to a rest rarely 
taken with pleasure. 

From a little child he had lived: this bovine 


*In Costa Rica the dry season is called summer, and the rainy 
season winter. During the latter, the rain usually commences 
at about two in the afternoon. 


203 


204 CUENTOS TICOS 


existence, with the single desire of acquiring 
wealth, and it can be positively stated that during 
half a century of his life he had had no other 
pleasure than that of having and not spending, 
a rare pleasure which only misers know how to 
appreciate. Although rich he lived like a beg- 
gar, want reigned in his house and the evil 
tongues even said that when ’Nor Ciriaco went 
to places where he was not known he begged for 
public charity with a pitiful voice. This was 
not at all improbable, because he was not the man 
to recoil at the opportunity to pocket a five-cent 
piece. Moreover, his body, emaciated by so 
many unsatisfied cravings, and his unkempt as- 
pect, were calculated to excite compassion. He 
could be seen in most lamentable attire, riding 
about the country, spurring pitilessly a consump- 
tive mare and mounted on a saddle of the time 
of the conquest, with the calves of his legs bare 
and his pantaloons rolled up to save them from 
the friction of the stirrup leathers. And when 
any one, surprised, asked him the reason for such 
a strange manner of riding, he would reply sen- 
tentiously: “Because the skin gets well and the 
cloth doesn’t.” This was. one of his favorite 
aphorisms, which rivalled that other, also his,— 
“It is better to have a full pocket than a full 
stomach.” 

Nevertheless, no matter how great the repel- 
lent avarice of "Nor Ciriaco might be, compared 
with that of his wife it might almost be called 
generosity. To tell of the prodigies of parsi- 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 205 


mony which she daily accomplished is little less 
than impossible for one who is ignorant of the 
science of depriving one’s self of the most neces- 
sary things when he has them in abundance. 
She sold the milk of the cows, the eggs of the 
hens, the young chickens, the garden stuff, the 
fruits, everything there was in the house even 
to the plantains, the foundation of the most fru- 
gal fare of the family. Still as after all it was 
necessary to eat something, "Nor Ciriaco, with 
that scant respect with which the property of 
those who live in the cities, those detested frock 
coat people, inspires the country folk, took upon 
himself the easing of plantain trees of their fruit 
in a neighboring hacienda, which belonged to 
some rich gentleman. Nor were his pilferings 
limited to this alone; he used often to return 
proudly with his saddle bags full of aguacates,* 
mangos and anonas,+ which he appropriated 
without any remorse ever troubling the Octavian 
peace of his conscience,—quite the contrary, 
since “to rob a rich man is to take away his 
troubles,’ and for the countryman every one 
that wears a frock coat is rich. 

Such great miserliness had, however, one ex- 
ception. The wife of "Nor Ciriaco showed her- 
self very lavish in one respect, and that was in 
the numerous progeny she bore him. This 
abundance of little brats, however, did not dis- 
please the miser; he looked rather on the birth 
of each new son with a satisfaction almost equal 


*Alligator pears. 
y*Custard apples, 


206 CUENTOS TICOS 


to that which the birth of a calf or any other 
profitable animal gave him. The little ones were 
hardly able to walk when he put them to sweat 
over a thousand tasks beyond their strength, and 
began to train them in his customary pilferings. 
This was not difficult considering the admirable 
disposition which his disciples showed, who could 
soon give their teacher points in the rustic arts 
of making an opening in a neighbor’s fence or 
purloining some succulent fruit. All of them 
gave promise of being worthy scions of the 
thrifty family of the Badillas, forming an excep- 
tion to the proverb which says: “After a frugal 
father comes a spendthrift son.”’ 

The existence of ’Nor Ciriaco and his family — 
differed little from that of the animals about 
them. They had no.dealings or friendships with 
anybody, because these in the long run cause 
responsibilities, and these they were always care- 
ful to avoid. In their metallic hearts there was no 
room for any human sentiment but the lust for 
gold and the most supreme selfishness. Thus 
they lived isolated like pariahs and loathed by 
everybody. 

A sad happening interrupted the dreary 
monotony of the miserable life of the misers. 
The mother died in three days, of a singular and 
acute malady. The avaricious man felt the loss 
of his wife in the only way that he could feel it, 
that is, from the utilitarian point of view. He 
wept bitterly over her, just as he would have done 
if his famous yoke of yellow oxen which were 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 207 


worth fifteen onzas* had died; and when he 
began to meditate on the difficulty of replacing 
her his grief was even greater, because women 
like the deceased were not to be found in cart-_ 
loads. ; 

He had been clearly aware of that when he 
picked her out, with that trained glance which 
had never deceived him in the selection of a 
strong and healthy animal. For all that she was 
so ugly and, according to gossip, of doubtful 
morals, he preferred her to others who were 
handsomer because they did not have the 
strength of limbs or arms nor that inextin- 
guishable ardor for work which aroused for her 
the admiration of the miser; for there never was 
a task no matter how hard which could terrify 
her; she was what one might call a veritable 
beast of burden. To complete her perfections she 
had a constitution of iron; but when she finally 
fell sick, for the first time in the thirty years of 
her married life, it was fatal. One day she could 
not get up, overcome at the very beginning by 
the violence of her sickness. On seeing her in 
such an alarming condition, her youngest daugh- 
ter, pitying her, proposed calling a doctor, but. 
the sick woman was the first to protest against 
such an extravagance. “He will charge too 
much, it is better to call in ’Na Pastora.”’ 

’Na Pastora came, a species of country quack 
and sometimes a witch, who diagnosed the case 


*A gold coin of Costa Rica, now little used, worth about seven- 
teen colones, or eight dollars in American gold. 


208 CUENTOS TICOS 


as spasms in the veins, a mortal sickness, it 
would seem. 


After the deceased was buried and the regular 
nine days of mourning, which was all that one 
could expect from such a niggardly family, were 
passed, and when the priest had been paid for the 
masses of San Gregorio, with much pain to ’Nor 
Ciriaco who found this passport to heaven very 
costly, things returned to their normal condition 
and continued so for some months. But sud- 
denly, almost in a night, there came an extraor- 
dinary change in the miser. His family began 
to note with surprise that now he did not roll up 
his pantaloons when he rode horseback, and their 
surprise changed to amazement when they saw 
him return one afternoon with a bundle of new 
clothes. The week following, Nor Ciriaco com- 
pletely scandalized his family by buying a fine 
Panama hat and a silk sash; yet even this was 
nothing compared to the purchase of a sorrel 
horse and a new saddle, which capped the climax 
of the indignation seething in the souls of the 
Badilla heirs on seeing how the extravagance of 
their father was growing. Such a singular 
change in the habits of "Nor Ciriaco had to have 
a cause, and in fact there was one. A sagacious 
observer could have noticed a strange coincidence 
between the metamorphosis of the miser and the 
arrival in the village of a pretty and lively girl 
named Filomena. She was a resident of the 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 209 


place, although she had passed three years in the . 
city as a servant. Now she had returned, very 
lively and quick witted, armed with a reper- 
toire of those vulgar and stupid sayings which 
are current in barracks, barber shops and 
factories. 

When Filomena went out for an airing in the 
village, dressed in her best finery, and looking 
very bewitching, the whole neighborhood was 
quite stirred up. The men, incited by her free 
and easy manner, called after her as she passed, 
rustic bits of gallantry. The women, in contrast, 
looked at her aggressively, calling her between 
their teeth a vagabond and a street walker. 
Conjugal disturbances caused by the coquettish 
eyes of the girl were not long in coming, and the 
busy-bodies were already talking of having the 
priest interfere in the matter, when the news 
burst on them like a bomb-shell that ’Nor Ciriaco 
Badilla had an understanding with her. At first 
nobody wished to give ear to such startling 
news; when, however, the miser appeared, trans- 
formed into a gallant, shaved, clean, and even 
seemingly younger, they could not but admit the 
‘truth of the report, especially as there were those 
who affirmed that they had seen him come out of 
Filomena’s house quite late. When the news 
was confirmed, ’Nor Ciriaco soon became a 
choice morsel for the gossips, and nick-names 
were showered upon him; but if most people 
were satisfied with ridiculing and laughing at his 
tardy extravagances, his nine heirs were as angry 


210 CUENTOS TICOS 


as hornets and almost burst their heads in seek- 
ing some means of making the enamoured old 
man regain his senses. 

One of them, who was quick of mind, hit upon 
the idea that their father must be bewitched, 
because only on this ground could one conceive 
of a person of his age and character indulging 
in such follies. This was a ray of light. The 
thing was plain; what else could it be? ’Nor 
Ciriaco was under the power of a spell prepared 
by Filomena, and accordingly it was necessary -. 
to nullify the harmful influence as soon as possi- 
ble. To effect this, the wiseacre of the family 
had an interview with "Na Pastora, who speedily 
confirmed the supposition. of enchantment, and 
prescribed for it some yellow powders to be 
mixed in the coffee of the bewitched man little 
by little, while at the same time they were to take 
the precaution of saying the Lord’s Prayer back- 
wards. That very afternoon, ’Nor Ciriaco took 
the potion. The remedy could not, however, have 
been efficacious, for the old man became more 
enamoured than ever of his charming Filomena. 
Nevertheless, "Na Pastora was too wise to admit 
herself beaten at the very start. She had solemnly 
promised to break the spell, and as she was well 
provided with wiles and tricks, in her equipment 
as a witch, she returned to the charge with in- 
creased spirit. Drawing each of them out skil- 
fully, she soon learned the character and habits of 
"Nor Ciriaco. Among other peculiarities, she 
learned that he was very timid and believed liter- 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 2iT 


ally in the Cadejos,* the Cegua,+ the Llorona,{ 
and other popular superstitions; but that the her- 
manos§ especially caused him unspeakable terror. 
With this data it was very easy for the old 
woman to evolve a plan, the execution of which 
the same wiseacre of the family, whose name was 
Isidoro, took charge. He had observed that his 
father, when he returned at night from the house 
of Filomena, came across a neighboring pasture 
in which was a guava tree by the foot of which 
the path ran. There was no better place in which 
to hide and give the old man a scare. Isidoro 
listened attentively to the detailed instructions 
of the old woman, and received with some mis- 
givings a jicara, or tree gourd, one of those used 
to beat chocolate in, which she delivered to him 
with strange incantations. | 

As soon as nine o’clock sounded on the clock 
of the village church he went to the pasture and 
climbing the guava tree settled himself to await 
the return of his father. There was a moon that 
night, but the sky was covered with clouds and 
the pale, faint light of the luminary gave to the 
outline of things a mysterious vagueness more 
fear-inspiring even than absolute darkness. _Isi- 
doro waited for the old man to pass. To tell the 


*(Author’s notes.) A fantastic animal in the form of a huge 
dog, black’ and hairy, with resounding hoofs. 

+A monster that takes on the form of a beautiful woman, to 
lead men away. 

tA dreadful phantom that can be heard moaning in the most 
terrifying manner, in the mountains. 

§Souls in distress. (Translator’s note:) The translator once read 
this story to some native boatmen on the Pacific Coast and asked 
them about these creatures. They at once gave a detailed account 
of their habits and appearance. One sailor stated that the Cadejos 
was probably the most dangerous animal in Costa Rica. 


‘212 CUENTOS TICOS 


truth, he did not feel quite at ease himself and 
the time of waiting seemed dreadfully long, be- 
cause all the fables and gruesome legends of 
which, as a rule, rustic heads are full, began to 
bestir themselves threateningly in his mind. He 
heard with dread the church clock strike half 
past nine, ten, half past ten. A little while after 
the last stroke a vague form seemed to be moving 
in the shadows and his heart beat violently. A 
moment later there was no doubt about it. Some 
one was approaching with rapid steps and a 
nervous manner. Isidoro clutched the jicara. 
The man came abreast of the guava tree and 
hurriedly kept on his way. At that instant a hol- 
low and terrifying voice came from the leafy top 
of the tree: 

“Ciriaco—o—o !” 

The wayfarer stopped and looked all about in 
a great fright. | 

“Ciriaco—o—o!” said the dreadful voice 
again. The old man, almost fainting with terror, 
did not wait longer, but took to his heels in panic- 
stricken flight, convinced that it was his wife 
who was calling him, to reprove him for his bad 
conduct. 


The stratagem devised by ’Na Pastora had an 
admirable effect. From the unfortunate night in 
which he heard the voice from beyond the grave, 
the nocturnal excursions of the old man ceased. 
He.now kept himself behind barred doors as 
soon as it became dark, almost dead with super- 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 213 


stitious fears. So great was the terror which 
the memory of his dreadful adventure caused 
him, that he ordered, of his own free will, a num- 
ber of masses to be said for the deceased to ap- 
pease her justly angered soul; yet his love for 
Filomena had entered into his flesh and in vain 
he strove to banish her seductive image from his 
memory. The tyrannical passion had taken pos- 
session of his being, a senile passion, irresistible 
and selfish, which enslaved both his body and his 
soul. Inspirited by its constant spurrings, he 
vowed to himself every day to return to the side 
of his adored one, but the shades of night always 
banished his valiant resolves, which gave place 
to fear, a terrible fear that made him tremble 
like a hare. Perhaps love would have been 
beaten at last in the struggle if the miser had not 
seen Filomena one Sunday as he came out from 
Mass. The girl looked at him with a significant 
sadness, and even made a gesture as though wip- 
ing away a tear. ‘Nor Ciriaco could not resist 
this, and straightway followed her to her house. 
A week later he went to live with Filomena in 
the neighboring city, to the great scandal of the 
whole village. 

For the second time ’Na Pastora lost in the 
game which she was playing, for the miser was 
more bewitched than ever. The wrath of the 
heirs broke forth terribly, because of the flight of - 
their father, and was increased when they heard 
that he was squandering their prospective for- 
tune, not only with the young woman but also 


214 CUENTOS TICOS 


with certain friends who were teaching him to 
frequent wine shops. On investigation, this re- 
port proved to be true, with the additional ag- 
gravation that the said friends were a pair of 
sharpers who had conspired with Filomena to 
exploit "Nor Ciriaco, and who, for this purpose, 
had woven a woof of deception worthy of the 
cunning of ’Na Pastora. 

Informed by the girl of the timidity of the old 
man, the two cronies, one of whom was addicted 
to bottles and the other to petticoats, conceived 
a plan for satisfying each one his heart’s desire at 
’Nor Ciriaco’s expense. 

With much skill, they commenced to instil in 
him the belief that in the patio* of the house 
there was a botija,+ which did not fail to arouse 
the ever present greed of the miser. When they 
saw that his mind was now well prepared, Filo- 
mena awoke him one night with feigned anxiety, 
telling him that she had heard groanings in the 
patio. Every hair on ’Nor Ciriaco’s body stood 
on end; from that instant he could not sleep, and 
began to say Ave Marias and the Lord’s Prayer 
one after the other. 

On the following night the good friend who 
was so fond of bottles arrived early and of 
course nothing was talked of but botijas and 
hermanos.t A doleful moan suddenly inter- 


*Courtyard of a Spanish-American house. : 

+(Author’s note.) In Costa Rica we call buried treasures ‘‘Boti- 
jas,’ on account of the earthen jars, of that name, in which they 
used to be buried. . 

tSouls in distress. In Costa Rica, the country people believe 
that if a man dies leaving money buried and owes any. one, his 
ghost, in great distress, will haunt that place until it is discov- 
ered and the debts paid. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 215 


rupted the gabble of the tippler. The old man 
began to tremble. Ten minutes later another 
moan was heard, and so on with an equal interval 
between until they had heard four. The terror 
of ’Nor Ciriaco was indescribable; the rascal, 
very calm, comforted him and told him that it 
would be necessary to talk with the soul in dis- 
tress in order to learn where the botija was; 
Filomena, who assured them that the groans pro- 
ceeded from the chayote vine, which was in the 
_ patio, ran and got into bed. A little while after- 
ward, the friend arose to take his leave, but "Nor 
Ciriaco, half wild with terror, grasped him by 
one arm and begged him not to leave him alone 
in such a dreadful plight. The tippler consented 
to remain on condition that some little bottles 
of cognac be brought to aid him in fighting off 
slumber. 

This farce which brought felicity to the knaves 
and the young woman lasted for more than a 
month. Night after night, thanks to the coward- 
liness of "Nor Ciriaco, the comedy was repeated, 
with as good success as on the first. Filomena 
took charge of secretly getting the other friend 
into the house. He would hide himself in the 
chayote vine, where it is not probable the girl 
would leave him to pass the whole night alone. 
Things might have continued thus for a long 
time if the two cronies had not been so imprudent 
as to confide the secret to various friends of the 
same ilk. These found the story very amusing, 
and therefore it was soon common talk in all the 


216 CUENTOS TICOS 


wine-shops, of the city. Thus it is plain how the 
matter came to the ears of Isidoro Badilla one 
market day, although the tale-bearer was igno- 
rant of the fact that the person mentioned was 
the young man’s father, for he managed to con- 
ceal it. On his return to the village he informed 
"Na Pastora of the state of affairs. The old 
woman, after meditating a while, told him not 
to worry, promising that this time everything 
should be arranged as he desired. 

Filomena, in order to put an end to the super- 
natural persecutions, of which ’Nor Ciriaco was 
the victim, had promised to attend the Pasada* 
of the Virgin of the Angels, dressed as an Indian 
girl, and as the old man built up great hopes on 
the intervention of the negritat+ in his favor, he 
opened his purse wide to pay for the costume. 
The two sharpers, without whom nothing was 
now done in the house, were invited to the pil- 
grimage, and all four set out for Cartago, on the 
evening before the ceremony. That same night, a 
spying neighbor could have seen an old woman 
accompanied by a young man, entering the house. 
of ’Nor Ciriaco, it might have been with a skele- 
ton key, for they were some time in opening the 
door. The old woman, who was carrying an 
earthenware jar on her hip, came out alone at 


*(Author’s note.) An annual religious ceremony, which takes 
place in the city of Cartago, is known by this name of “La 
Pasada,” and consists of the translation of the miraculous image 
of Our Lady of the Angels from the church of La Soledad to the 
sanctuary of its name, with a great following of pilgrims, devout 
persons, curious ones and masqueraders. : 

+(Author’s note.) Little negress. An affectionate name that 
the people of Cartago give to the miraculous image of Our Lady 
of the Angels. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 217 


the end of-an hour, and carefully closed the 
door. 

When the pilgrims returned on the following 
night, rather tipsy and very merry, Filomena, 
who had outshone many in the procession, pro- 
_ posed crowning the festival with a good supper 
which could be brought from a Chinese restaurant 
near by. 

"Nor Ciriaco, whose generosity now had no 
limits, having accepted this proposal, went out 
‘ with the two cronies into the street, while the 
girl set the table. 

They did not delay long in returning with the 
supper and a number of bottles, when the love 
feast commenced, which promised to be long 
on account of the keen appetites of the ban- 
queters, and merry, thanks to the good-humor all 
were in. 

’Nor Ciriaco, full of confidence in the efficacy 
of the vow made by Filomena, gorged himself to 
repletion. Suddenly with a look of anguish he 
ceased to eat. 

“The moans,’—he murmured, growing pale. 

“You're crazy,” replied one of the two friends, 
casting a roguish glance at Filomena. 

There was silence for a while. Another groan, 
clearly audible, which sounded in the patio, made 
them all arise from the table panic-stricken. The 
three accomplices looked at each other in aston- 
ishment. The friend of Filomena, doubtless 
more courageous or more familiar with these 
mysteries of the other world, went to a window 


218 CUENTOS TICOS 


which opened on the patio and raised it. The 
others grouped themselves behind him, 

“A—a—a—a—y!”’ wailed the “hermano,” for 
the third time, with a mournful accent. 

All began to tremble with fear. ’Nor Ciriaco’s 
teeth were chattering, and his knees were doub- 
ling under him. ‘The situation was terrible. 
After some minutes, which to those present 
seemed centuries, the brave one asked in a faint 
and faltering voice: 





“If—if—you are a soul in distress—tell us’ - 


wha—what you want.” 

“To escape from my sorro—o—ws,”’ replied 
the voice. 

The four friends laid hold of each other, so as 
not to fall. The same one who had spoken first, 
again asked: 

“Tell us fo—for—wha—what you are doing 
penance.” 

“For a boti ja—a—al” 

“Wh—where is it?” 

“He—ere.”’ 

The voice came from the chayote vine, so of 
course the botija was beneath it, but who was 
daring enough to go and get it out at such a 
time? Nevertheless, the powerful incentive of 
gold began little by little to overcome the fear in 
those human hearts. Trembling and whispering, 
the woman and the three men decided to go and 
search for a pick and shovel in the neighborhood, 
and as no one had the courage to wait there 
alone, all four went leaving the house empty. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 219 


They had scarcely gone out, when Isidoro—for 
the “hermano”? was he and no one else—im- 
proved the opportunity to slip out also. 

They did not delay long in securing the neces- 
sary implements for digging, and ’Nor Ciriaco, 
calmed by the presence of four or five frequenters 
of the neighboring wine-shop who had come be- 
hind them, commenced to insinuate timidly that 
the botija belonged to him exclusively, as he was 
the owner of the house. The others, impatient 
to discover the gold, began to dig beneath the 
chayote vine by the light of a lantern. One of 
them noticed that the earth came out easily as 
though it had been recently dug up, but at that 
moment none of those present was in a mood 
to observe closely. 

“There’s something here,’ exclaimed one of 
those who were working at the hole. 

Everybody came closer, panting with excite- 
ment. Two minutes later an earthenware jar of 
ordinary size could be seen, which made the 
hearts of all palpitate with covetous desire. The 
vessel, which was quite heavy, was taken out. 
Then ’Nor Ciriaco claimed and obtained for him- 
self the right of examining the contents. With 
a trembling hand he removed a stone that closed 
the mouth of the jar and greedily thrust his 
fingers inside. Again he pulled out a stone, and 
then another, and another, until he had taken out 
ten. A great disenchantment succeeded to the 
first excitement of the spectators of that strange 
scene, since the coveted riches, which they hoped 


220 CUENTOS TICOS 


to find in the jar, did not make their appearance. 
Those who had come from the wine-shop began 
to suspect that they were victims of some new 
prank of the two rascally friends, when ’Nor 
Ciriacc drew out from the bottom of the jar two 
objects, whose appearance was received with a 
boisterous laugh. They were a bottle of brandy 
and a handsome cow’s horn.* 

The miser stood stupefied with amazement, 
looking first at one and then another, without 
comprehending the cause of that unexpected 
hilarity. Suddenly a bright ray of light pene- 
trated his mind, and the veil that had covered his 
eyes fell. Wrath, a terrible savage wrath, surged 
into his heart. He looked: for Filomena, and 
advancing toward her with a menacing air, 
shouted : 

“Oh, you cheat!!” 
names upon her. 

As the girl’s lover made as though he would 
interpose, "Nor Ciriaco split his head open with 
a bottle. 


*The Spanish word cuerno, or horn, is often applied to a cuckold. 


and heaped curses and vile 


EL AHORCADO. 


(THE HANGED MAN. ) 


E had already passed the smiling valley of 

V6 Ujarraz after traversing the red and 

sterile lands of misnamed Paraiso;* be- 

hind lay the pastures of Cartago, dotted with 

huge gray stones, and the green coffee planta- 

tions of Tres Rios. The train rolled now over 

the colossal viaduct of the Birrist with the roar- 

ing noise of torrential waters, and kept on its 

downward course winding about like a snake 
high up on the side of the mountain range. 

The panorama had changed with the rapidity 
of a stage scene. To the sparse vegetation of the 
high altitudes which reminds one of northern 
landscapes, succeeded the monstrous luxuriance 
of the tropical forests; where the great size of the 
trees, the density of the foliage, and the tall and 
graceful palm trees here and there gave one the 
strange illusion of being in another country, a 
thousand leagues away. 

At the caprice of the interminable turnings 


*Paradise. : é 
+The largest bridge on the railroad from Limon to San José, 
nearly 300 feet high. 


221 


222 CUENTOS TICOS 


and twistings of the railroad line which follows 
the cafion of the Reventazon river, the aspect 
of the landscape changed continually. At times 
we could descry the river boiling impetuously 
along in the depths far below, where the vertical 
rays of the mid-day sun penetrated, making it 
shine like a silver ribbon against a background 
of emeralds. Two minutes later we were sur- 
rounded by the silent majesty of the mountains 
which shut in the horizon like a gigantic amphi- 
theatre, or passed by some mysterious abyss 
which yawned threateningly at our feet. My 
companion in the seat, who noticed the 
admiration which the picturesque panorama 
caused me, suspended the reading of his paper 
to say: ; 

“Tf our grandfathers could rise up from their 
tombs and see the ease with which to-day we go 
to the Atlantic coast, they would fall dead again 
of surprise. They used to confess and make their 
wills when they went to Matina,* to the famous 
Matina which inspires fear in men and madness 
in mules,+ as they used to say in those days, when 
men were braver and mules better. The 
truth is that this road seems like a work of the 
Romans, and many believed it an impossibility 
until it was done. I remember that a person of 
importance, one of those who believe themselves 
infallible, once said in a mocking tone: ‘General 


*A village on the coast plain near Limon. 
yIn Spanish this saying rhymes: 
“Al famoso Matina : 
que a los hombres acoquina 
y a las mulas desatina.” 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 223 


Guardia* is trying to build a railroad to Port 
Limon, where the birds themselves can scarcely 
go with wings.’ To-day one might answer him 
that if the birds cannot get there by flying there 
is nothing to prevent them from making the 
journey very comfortably in a cage. But one 
must confess that those who doubted the success- 
ful outcome of the work were not without reason. 
Believe me, that only we who have seen near at 
hand the difficulties that had to be conquered in 
finishing it can appreciate their magnitude.” 
Then my neighbor, who was talkative, began 
to tell me many tales connected with the construc- 
tion of our railroad to the east in which the 
name of Keith, the indefatigable North American, 
to whose prodigious force and indomitable en- 
ergy the completion of that undertaking is chiefly 
owed, was often mentioned. All of those his- 
tories are very interesting, and could serve as 
examples worthy of imitation by future genera- 
tions, who cannot but admire what was done by 
force of perseverance, energy and toil, fighting 
hand to hand with inanimate things and the ele- 
ments combined against man. Perhaps some day 
there will be one who will tell of the heroic 
deeds of these humble laborers, many of whom 
perished obscurely, victims of the deadly climate, 
the constant battle against the terrible rugged- 
ness of the mountains; the ravages of the rivers 
which at any moment overleaped their beds and 
swept away and twisted out of shape great iron 


*A dictator of Costa Rica during whose rule this road was 
commenced, 


224 CUENTOS TICOS 


bridges as if they had been of straw; the 
unheard of fatigues of those who had to work 
under an overpowering sun, breathing unhealthy 
miasmas, badly fed and passing the nights upon 
the ground soaked by heavy rains, without being 














A SLIDE ON THE COSTA RICA RAILWAY 


able to sleep, harassed by clouds of ferocious 
mosquitoes. This is a subject worthy of a great 
epic, and perhaps some poet of the future will 
write it, when the ideals and sentiments of men 
may have changed and they prefer the tales of the 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 225 


noble struggles of industry, to the bloody annals 
of the great captains. While that time is coming, 
though in my opinion still far off, I am going to 
relate the last of the episodes which my com- 
panion on the train told me and which seemed to 
have made a deep impression on his mind. 


When the work on the railroad was com- 
menced, the port of Limon was almost a wilder- 
ness, where only a few miserable thatched huts, 
inhabited by negroes, could be seen, aside from 
the temporary structures erected by the govern- 
ment for the necessities of the public service. It 
is unnecessary to say that life there was very hard 
at that time, since every comfort was lacking, on 
account of the impossibility of communicating 
with the interior of the country and on account of 
the slight maritime activity, confined to a month- 
ly steamer of the British Royal Mail, the arrival 
of which was a feast day. On these occasions, 
one could get ice, which was the most needed 
thing in that fiery climate. There were no diver- 
sions nor even time to read. Sundays they used 
to go hunting and return with wild turkeys and 
other game, which were a godsend to people con- 
demned to live on canned provisions. The Gov- 
ernor’s negro cook took charge of preparing what 
the hunters provided, and brought forth bottles 
of wine, thus improvising a banquet, in which 
Doctor Urbina led the conversation with his in- 
exhaustible repertoire of stories and jokes. 


226 CUENTOS TICOS 


Doctor Urbina was a rare type, a mixture 
of cynicism and good-heartedness; of a short 
temper, and consequently a rather difficult person 
to deal with, although he was most commonly 
- found in a very affable humor. When, how- 
ever, he appeared with a certain furrow between 
his eyebrows and with a sparkle in his left eye, 
it was better to abstain from talking to him, so 
as to avoid injury to one’s feelings. At such 
times he could give voice only to sarcasms and 
cutting ironies, which even his best friends could | 
not pardon and which caused him many hatreds 
and hard feelings during his life. Nevertheless 
the politeness of his ordinary manner and the 
wittiness of his conversation kept at his side a 
group of persons who, if they did not actually 
like him, at least took pleasure in hearing him 
talk with the keen wit which was natural to him. 
As for the rest he was an excellent doctor and an 
energetic man, resolute and of a ready invention, 
as he proved on various occasions, especially on 
one which has become famous. 

Coolies had been brought from China for the 
railroad work and were located in the unhealthy 
zone, as it is well known that the life of a China- 
man is of no great importance. One must sup- 
pose that they themselves held the same opinion, 
considering the ease with which they parted 
from it. In fact not a day dawned that some son 
of the Celestial Empire was not found hanging 
from a tree, to the envy of his companions, who 
literally believed that he would come to life on 




















THE PARK IN PORT LIMON 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 229 


the banks of the Hoang Ho, the famous Yellow 
River, and find happiness in the contemplation of 
the fragile pagodas of the land of Confucius, far 
from the abhored overseer who made them work. 
This mania for suicide, of which home-sickness 
and laziness were the chief causes, began to take 
on alarming proportions among the coolies, and 
it was necessary to consider seriously some way 
of stopping it. Although, with this object, vari- 
ous experiments were tried, none were of any 
use. Neither threats nor promises could re- 
strain the evil. A very ingenious idea then oc- 
curred to Doctor Urbina, which had an admirable 
result. One day when two Chinamen were found 
hanging, in spite of the strict vigilance exercised 
in the camp to prevent such happenings, the order 
was given to call them all together and form them 
in a circle. Stretched on the ground in the centre 
were placed the two suicides. Then the doctor, 
grave and solemn, appeared and taking a scalpel 
out of his instrument case quickly cut off the ears 
and the cues from the corpses, in the presence of 
the horrified coolies. Then by means of an in- 
terpreter, he announced to them that every one 
who after that should take his life would suffer 
the same mutilations, and that in this unsightly, 
imperfect state he would come back to life in 
China. That was an efficacious remedy. Not 
another coolie committed suicide; and when the 
doctor used to relate this anecdote he never for- 
got to conclude in his deep bass voice: “Even the 
Chinamen have their little bit of vanity.” 


230 CUENTOS TICOS 


My neighbor made other like digressions in 
telling what I am now going to relate, but in 
order not to be diffuse, I consider it better to 
omit them. 

It happened that two Jamaican negroes came 
to Limon in a boat from the small Colombian 

















ONE OF THE DIFFICULTIES OF RAILROADING IN THE TROPICS 


town of Bocas del Toro. They announced 
themselves as artists or minstrels, and made 
known their desire of giving a performance, for 
which purpose a freight shed was lent to 
them, where a stage was constructed. The pro- 
gramme was divided into two parts. The first 
consisted of songs and dances; in the second, one 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 231 


of the actors was to simulate the death of a 
man by hanging. From the Governor down, 
there was not an inhabitant of the place who did 
not go to the performance. ‘Two large kerosene 
torches placed at the door of the shed illuminated 
a placard printed in English on which it was 
stated, of course, that those negroes were the 
“Champions of the World.” The first part .fur- 
-nished great amusement for the North Americans 
present, who cannot see a negro on the stage 
without almost dying of laughter. The rest of 
the spectators, who did not understand English 
or did not see the point of the jokes, would have 
had a dull time of it that night had it not-been for 
the witty comments in a-jocular vein which 
Doctor Urbina made in a loud voice. 

After a rather long intermission, the second 
part commenced. Suspended from a beam over 
the platform or stage the hangman’s noose could 
be seen. The two negroes appeared and one of 
them tied the other’s hands. This done, both got 
_ upon a bench and the one who acted the part of 
hangman placed the noose of the rope about the 
neck of his companion. When everything was 
ready the negro executioner pronounced a dis- 
course which must have been very funny, to 
judge from the laughter of the Yankees; then 
after getting down he snatched away the bench, 
leaving the condemned man hanging in the air. 
There was a creaking of the beam and the body 
was swaying in space. The scene was repug- 
nant, and became even more so when the negro 


232 CUENTOS TICOS 


was seen to struggle, his face swollen and his 
eyes bulging from their sockets. A tremor of 
horror ran through the crowd. 

“That man is strangling!’ exclaimed eats 
Urbina. 

The negro who played the part of hangman 
replied, laughing, “Oh, my sag does this 
hanging act very well.” : 

These words called forth a shout of laughter | 
from everybody, and all looked at the doctor, be- 
lieving that this was one of those frequent jokes 
of his. In the meantime, the body of the negro 
was still writhing and the swollen tongue, coy- 
ered with bloody froth, was protuding from the 
half open mouth. . | 

“That man is strangling!’ again declared 
Doctor Urbina, who had just observed an unmis- 
takable symptom. 

This time the negro had to sit down for 
laughter. He pressed his stomach with his 
hands; he shook with merriment and his mouth 
opened wide, showing two rows et very white 
teeth. 

“That man is strangling!’ shouted Doctor 
Urbina rushing toward the stage. 

The negro laughed, the friends of Urbina 
laughed; everybody laughed on seeing that 
comical scene which was not mentioned in the 
programme. The doctor jumped upon the stage 
with one leap and severed the rope with a pocket 
knife which he carried in his hand. The body 
fell flat upon the boards with a dull thud. Then 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 233 


the laugh died in the mouth of the hangman, 
who now looked with terror at his companion 
lying on the floor, an inert mass. 

For an hour Doctor Urbina labored to bring 














ON THE COAST PLAIN 


the negro back to life. It was all in vain. The 
poor fellow had played his part with an excess 
of perfection. 


. . . a a ° e e 4 ° e . 


234 CUENTOS TICOS 


My neighbor, tired of talking, had resumed 
the interrupted reading of his paper. Behind us 
the immense mass of the Cordillera grew con- 
stantly as we kept drawing away from it, and 
the train ran rapidly over the hot coast plain in 
the midst of a perfect orgy of verdure. The 
trees, covered with parasites and vines, raised 
their immense branches to the sky, like the arms 
of fabulous giants. Above the multitude of inter- 
lacing tops towered, here and there, the tall 
slender trunk of a palm crowned with its fragile 
plume. 

The rivers flowed swiftly, carrying along cen- 
tury old tree trunks, and on one side or another 
we could see the green ranks of banana trees, 
somewhat resembling colossal lilies. At times 
we had a swift-passing vision of a wooden house 
or of a palm-thatched hut, surrounded by cocoa- 
nut trees, begonias, pineapples and flowers whose 
penetrating odors reached us through the car 
windows, mixed with the hot breath of the heated 
earth. It was the tropics, with its gloomy forests, 
its sun of fire, its countless animals and reptiles 
and its implacable fevers; the tropics, magnifi- 
cent, triumphant and terrible. While the savage 
beauty of the spectacle compelled our admiration 
a feeling began to grow within me, vague at first, 
afterwards most intense; it was the homesick 
longing for the pleasant fields of the highlands, 
and the whitewashed adobe houses which call 
to mind those of the mother Spain. 


UN ESPADACHIN. 


(A SWORDSMAN. ) 


who indeed is exempt from them?—but on 

the other hand they have some very com- 
mendable qualities. They are frank and loyal, 
progressive and valiant. In regard to frankness it 
can be said that they are even inclined to lack di- 
plomacy. Their loyalty is now proverbial, since 
never have they been known to abandon any un-’ 
fortunate cause that had their sympathies. A 
_good proof of this is the unchanging fidelity with 
which they still cherish the memory of the ill- 
starred Don Juan Rafael Mora.+ They are 
liberty loving to exaggcration; at the very be- 
ginning of our life as a nation they showed it by 
fighting for the republic against the imperial ban- 
ner of Iturbide. And, so far as bravery is con- 
cerned, on every occasion they have been the first 
to rush into danger. Now it might be internal 


F | YHE sons of Alajuela* have their defects,— 


*(Translator’s note.) Capital of the province of Alajuela and 
one of the largest towns of Costa Rica. With its narrow cobble 
paved streets, massive church and turreted cuartel, or barracks, it 
has an old-fashioned, almost medieval look, and forms a suitable 
setting for this story, which rather reminds one of the misadven- 
tures of Don Quijote. 

+A former President of Costa Rica who was driven out by a 
revolution. ‘ 

235 


236 CUENTOS TICOS 


strife such as the overthrow of Morazan, and 
again a foreign war like that which was waged 
against Walker’s filibusters in Nicaragua. For 
in this many Alajuelans covered themselves 
with glory, among others Juan Santa Maria and 
Don Juan Alfaro Ruiz at Rivas, and General 
Florentino Alfaro atel Sardinal. My fellow 
countrymen, therefore, will not take it ill that I 
reveal one of their small defects, if indeed it is a 
defect to be somewhat of a braggart. Still, why 
deny it? The Alajuelan is boastful, and it is not ~ 
displeasing to him in case of need to make a bold 
threat. 

During the first presidency of Dr. Castro, 
whom they declared’ deposed by a daring 
act of rebellion, there was a time when they made 
valor a profession. It is true that for their rebel- 
lious act they were conquered by the governmen’ 
troops, but that, more than to force of arms, was 
owing to a well-known piece of treachery. This 
they have not even yet been able to forget, nor 
also the extremely ridiculous exaggeration with 
which the triumph of a considerable army over a 
handful of men was celebrated. I say, then, that 
at that time, now long past, all the men in Ala- 
juela were given to deeds of daring and were 
also more or less skilled in the use of weapons. 
The gentlemen of the city devoted themselves 
enthusiastically to the management of the guaca- 
lona,* the men of the neighboring villages to that 
of the Cutachat and the realera.f 


*Sword with a basket hilt. 
+A kind of machete. 
tA long machete. 











Sm a 


See 


ee 


"pains Tae 
Loge lets: 


Lae Se 





CHURCH AND PARK IN ALAJUELA 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 239 


From this love for arms, quarrels arose between 
one and another, occasioned by local rivalries. 
Still, as their rancors were not deep and the com- 
batants were more desirous of showing their skill 
than of doing injury, they generally contented 
themselves with giving each other a few strokes 
with the flat of the sword without greater 
damage. 

The field of honor was ordinarily the plaza of 
the church of La Agonia when the affair was with 
one of the Llaneros, or plainsmen from the plains 
of Carmen, and in the place called el Arroyo if 
the dispute was with one from Rio Sigundo.* As 
policemen with sleek oily hair had not yet been 
invented for the delight of housemaids, nor even 
those watchmen who used to walk the streets at 
night singing out the, hours, dressed like 
Calabrian bandits, with the cloak hanging from 
one shoulder, leather sandals on the feet and 
short gun in hand, the conflicts used to last until 
the night patrol or a guard from the cuartel came 
to put a stop to them. 

Among the most assiduous in these affairs of 
honor which took place on moonlight nights, as 
clear as the day in Alajuela, was a gentleman 
whom for the needs of this narrative I shall call 
Don Telésforo. 

He was a man of mature age although still 
agile and vigorous, who passed as an adept in the 
management of arms and as being experienced 
in all kinds of adventures, which he himself took 


*A village near Alajuela. 


240 ‘CUENTOS TICOS 


pleasure in relating; yet as they had all happened 
during a famous journey which he had made to 
South America in his youth, they were difficult to 
verify. Nevertheless nobody would have dared 
to doubt them, out of respect for the enormous 
guacalona which always accompanied him when 
he went out at night muffled in his cloak of San 
Fernando cloth. 

Don Telésforo, in addition to being a swords- 
man, was fond of love making and was a good 
player on the guitar. No one knew better than he 
how to sing a mournful lay, one of those that 
soften the hardest feminine hearts; and as he 
liked to display this accomplishment, there was 
hardly a serenade in which he did not take part. 
After a tuneful prelude, the secret of which he 
jealously guarded, he would sing in his rather 
nasal voice a certain couplet which was the in- 
troduction to all the serenades of that epoch: 

Tu Amante, Silvia. 

Su Amor dedica 

Y hoy sacrifica 

Su Corazon. | 
The repertory of Don Telestoro was very ex- 
tensive, and the song varied according to circum- 
stances. It was tender and loving if the wooer 
saw that his love was reciprocated, querulous if 
the lovely Silvia was inclined to be scornful, bit- 
ter if it was a case of avenging infidelity. This 
was not the only advantage which resulted from 
his presence in a serenading party. If it were 
interrupted by the untimely passing of the patrol 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 241 


or of some jealous rival, Don Telésforo would 
exchange the guitar for the guacalona, and then 
there was the devil to pay. He remained a 
bachelor for a long time, because as he used to 
say “the loose ox has an easy time,’’ but there were 
those who affirmed that the gallant had had more 
than one defeat in love during his life. Be 
that as it might, Don Telésforo finally delivered 
his valiant hand to a species of virago whose 
antecedents cannot be cited as models of virtue. 
This made him lose a great deal in the estimation 
of people, and was the cause of derogatory re- 
marks, which it may be said in passing, did not 
travel far, because if the guacalona of Don Telés- 
foro inspired respect, the tongue of his consort 
was not less feared, and moreover she was one 
who would not hesitate to pull off hair-ribbons 
and, if one were to believe what the evil tongues 
said, one would have to admit as certain that Don 
Telésforo himself was acquainted only too well 
with the power of his better half’s claws. 

One thing, indeed, was evident, and that was 
the transformation of the gentleman after his 
marriage. He was not now to be seen in sere- 
nades nor in affairs of honor and least of all in 
little dances at private houses, to which in his 
good days he had been so partial. It is to be 
presumed that his household dragon did not per- 
mit him to enjoy these favorite diversions, and 
for this reason Don Telésforo was plainly deteri- 
orating. His aspect was less fierce, the guacalona 
was rusting in its scabbard, and his cloak was 


242 | CUENTOS TICOS 


growing mildewed on its hook. These were 
doubtless causes why, in the mind of some, respect 
for him should diminish, and perhaps also, why 
he should not carry himself with his customary 
gallantry on two occasions of which I, in a spirit 
of mischief, am going to tell. 

Harassed by domestic tyranny, Don Telésforo 
began to tipple, at first taking rompope,* but later 
brandy and other strong liquors, which caused 
some disorder in his ideas. He commenced to 
believe himself pursued and surrounded by im- 
aginary perils, and in order to be ready to defend 
himself from them, passed the silent hours giving 
thrusts, cuts and backstrokes with the guacalona. 
Before the dominion of his wife became so abso- 
lute in the house, some of his friends and boon 
companions used to go to fence with him; but 
now no one came near, through fear of the vixen. 
This loss of his favorite exercise was one of the 
things that exasperated him most and threw him 
a little off his balance. 

One morning, while Don Telésforo was en- 
tertaining himself by perfecting a thrust, during 
the absence of his torment, he saw a countryman 
enter the patio with a cartload of firewood. He 
was just then in need of an adversary in order to 
judge better the efficacy of his parrying, and be- 
lieved that the rustic would do for the occasion. 
He waited until the man had finished unloading 
the wood, and when he was calling to his oxen 
he sallied forth with two wooden swords and pro- 


*(Author’s note.) A cold punch made of eggs, milk, sugar and 
brandy. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 243 


posed a fencing bout. The cart man, confused 
and humble, excused himself as best he could, 
declaring that he knew absolutely nothing about 
fencing. Don Telésforo insisted with vehemence, 
but did not succeed in convincing him. Finally, 
irritated by this tenacity in declining, he lost 
patience and passing from words to deeds, gave 
the fellow a hard blow. on his shoulders. Then 
he who had been so lamb-like, changed into a lion. 
He ran to the cart, seized a club and rushed to 
attack the irate gentleman. The chronicles of 
Alajuela do not record a greater cudgelling. The 
countryman was muscular and the club was of 
oak. ‘ 

When Don Telésforo’s wife returned from the 
street, she found him lying in the patio with his 
head bleeding and his ribs battered, but she could 
never get out of him the truth about the affair. 
She afterwards learned it from a maid servant 
who saw the misfortune of the gentleman from 
the crack of a door. 

The other unfortunate incident which I am 
going to narrate was a consequence of the former 
one. In spite of the efforts of Don Telésforo, he 
could not prevent the thing from being known, 
and now nobody believed the story of the fall 
from his horse with which he tried to account for 
the wounds and bruises on his body. 

He was not long in becoming aware of an at- 
mosphere of restrained ridicule that floated about 
him, ten times more irritating than a_ direct 
offence. The smiles of some, the reticence of 


244 CUENTOS TICOS 


others, were like an anonymous and terrible buffet 

which he could not avenge, because the aggressor 
was not any definite person. It was everybody 
and yet nobody. Alajuela insulted Don Telés- 
foro, as Fuenteovejuna killed the knight com- 
mander of Calatrava, all against one. 

The punctilious cavalier understood that it was 
most necessary to do something very great in 
order to re-establish the reputation for valor 
which he had formerly enjoyed. Thus it was that 
one Monday, which is market day in Alajuela, 
Don Telésforo, goaded by the desire to recover 
what he had lost by his misadventure, and perhaps 
also by certain matutinal drams, sallied forth from 
his house. guacalona in hand, and went to place 
himself in the most frequented street in front of 
an adobe wall of no great height. There he 
planted himself in the middle of the road, and 
after passing the tizona* several times along the 
ground as though to sharpen it, he roared in a 
stentorian voice: 

“Let no one pass this way!” 

Immediately the movement of traffic stopped, 
while the people, some curious, others frightened, 
commenced to form in groups on all sides to see 
how the matter was going to end. 

“Let no one pass this way!” shouted Don 
Telésforo, flourishing his sword. “And if any 
one wants to pass, let him come on. Here I wait 
him with point, edge and guacal.’’+ 


*The sword of the Spanish hero, El Cid: hence, the sword of a 
ero. 

+(Author’s note.) A name formerly given to the basket hilt of 
a sword on account of its resemblance to the cups and bowls made 
from the gourds that grow on the tree of that name. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 245 


In vain the fierce swordsman roared. Nobody 
dared to try conclusions with him. 

-“Tsn’t there a man for me?” he vociferated, 
growing even more furious. 

Nothing. Complete silence. Don Telésforo 
now began to retire, with more pride than Don 
Rodrigo at La Horca, when he saw approaching 
‘him an old man, mounted on a mule. 

“Let no one pass this way!” bawled the cavalier 
again scraping his sword along the ground. The 
rider, without a change of feature, continued ad- 
vancing until he came within two paces of the 
madman. There he reined in his mule, and with 
a suave, calm voice said: 

“Senior, I beg you to let me pass, because I am 
in a great hurry.”’ 

“Back! Your hurry doesn’t matter,” replied 
Don Telésforo angrily, threatening the breast of 
the mule with the point of the guacalona. 

“See here, sefior, you had better let me pass,” 
insisted the old fellow, who was a countryman of 
a robust aspect. 

“Back, I said, coward!” 

Then the old man calmly dismounted from his 
mule and took off his spurs, tying them to a 
thong on his saddle. Having done this, leisurely, 
he came toward Don Telésforo, who kept on 
sending forth sparks and fire. 

The two adversaries measured each other with 
their eyes, the swordsman much excited, the 
countryman very serene; the one brandishing his 
huge guacalona, the other armed with a riding 


246 CUENTOS TICOS 


whip or crop the stock of which was of lignum 
vite. Don Telésforo launched a stroke at his ad- 
versary, but the edge of his sword only blunted. 
itself against the impenetrable wood. Agile and 
flexible in spite of his years, the old man slipped 
from beneath the weapon and grasping Don 
Telésforo by the muscles of his arms, raised 
him on high with unlooked for strength. A 
second later the cavalier was flying through the 
air and disappeared behind the adobe wall. A 
great splash was heard, and after that, © 
nothing. 

The spectators of the combat, curious to learn 
the stopping place of Don Telésforo, ran to the 
entrance of the house to which the wall belonged, 
but they found the doors and windows closed, on 
account of the absence of the owners, who were 
in the country for a time. It was necessary, 
therefore, to send a boy on horseback to get the 
key, as, though the wall was rather low on the 
side toward the street, it was high on the inside, 
where it served as the boundary for a deep ditch 
whose waters were very convenient for softening 
the fall of Don Telésforo. Nine o’clock in the 
evening was striking when the doors of his prison 
were opened. Friends and strangers waited his 
coming out. They were sorrowful in outward 
appearance, dying of laughter within. 

The unfortunate cavalier appeared. 

Ten years more were painted on his face, such 
were the ravages of grief and the rage which was 
consuming him. Soaked to the skin, with his hair 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 247 


plastered on his skull and his clothing on his body, 
he was a pitiful sight. 

From that disastrous day Don ‘Telésforo 
languished, and, tortured by the bitterness of his 
remembrance and the recriminations of his wife, 
he soon delivered his most noble soul to his Cre- 
ator. 

And thus it was that this illustrious cavalier of 
Alajuela died. 

May God take him to his glory. 


LOS GATOS DEMONIACOS. 


(THE BEDEVILLED CATS.) - 


\ X YHEN dinner was over and the cigarettes 
were lighted, we went out. to the ~ 
veranda. Behind the blue line of the 
mountains the sun was sinking into the Pacific, 
leaving behind it a glorious splendor which made 
us fall silent with admjration. It was a con- 
flagration of the whole heavens, an indescribable 
orgy of colors and shades, which varied from 
flaming scarlet to the most delicate yellows and 
greens. The atmosphere, of a reddish tinge at 
first, began to take on a violet shade, which made 
us see things as through a mist of pulverized 
amethysts. Then the magnificent vision began 
to fade away, and we felt ourselves deeply imbued 
with the melancholy of the fields at the hour of 
evening twilight. The immense conflagration 
was extinguished; one after another the burning 
cloud masses began to pale, dissipating the thou- 
sand phantasms of the sky, islands of glowing 
molten gold bathed by seas of turquoise, floating 
bits of tulle, white and undefined silhouettes to 
which the imagination gave capricious forms of 


248 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 249 


fantastic beings and animals. Soon the gray 
mist, forerunner of the night, arose, and at its 
touch the outline of the landscape melted into a 
sad, hazy vagueness. <A great silence weighed 
upon the sleeping earth, which the far-away low- 
ing of cattle in the pastures, or the rapid flight 
of a dove going to rest in some tree with a hur- 
ried flapping of wings, interrupted from time to 
time. 

“Tf you want to hear a few unlikely tales’— 
said Manuel Diaz, arousing me from the ecstatic 
reverie in which the superb spectacle was holding 
me—‘come and hear the stories of Feliciano.” 

Feliciano was one of the men servants who 
accompanied us on that hunting expedition for 
which the vacation of Holy Week and the sever- 
ity of the Lenten dinners served as a pretext. An 
enthusiastic hunter, he had no rival in finding 
the resting place of a deer, or the hole of a tepez- 
cuintle*; nor did any one surpass him in the art 
of serving with neatness and despatch. He was 
a model for servants, a jewel. Serious and pru- 
dent, he had the simplicity to believe thoroughly 
in the fabulous tales with which the rustic mind 
likes to adorn everything pertaining to the chase. 
Feliciano never. forgot to turn his gun barrel 
downward when he shot a bird, an indispensable 
requisite for making it fall, nor to trace a small 
cross on the bullets so that those privileged ani- 
mals such as deer which have the stone,+ could 


*Paca, Coelogenys paca: a small animal of Central and South 
America, whose flesh is considered a great delicacy. 

+(Author’s note.) The popular belief is that some deer, usually 
very old ones, are invulnerable by virtue of a certain little stone 
which they have beneath their tongue. 


250 CUENTOS TICOS 


not escape from them. His greatest desire was 
to get one of these precious objects, which make 
the fortune of those who possess them. 

At the moment when we approached the group 
Feliciano was explaining the virtues of this talis- 
man. According to him, it was a little trans- 
parent stone, within which could be seen a deer 
when one looked through it against the light. If 
the animal appears lying down it is a sign that 
the hunter will lose his time; when on the con- 
trary it is seen standing, the quarry is sure. Un- 
fortunately, as the animals which have it are 
almost invulnerable, it is very difficult to get one. 
The only thing Feliciano had been able to obtain 
was an amulet, which he hoped would serve to 
neutralize the effect of the stone. 

He had wanted to skin with his own hands 
the handsome deer killed by one of us on the 
morning of that day, because he had observed 
some old bullets imbedded in one of the hind 
quarters, a proof that the animal had already 
been on intimate terms with guns; but he could 
find no trace of the stone, for all that he searched. 
Without doubt, the deer had spit it out before 
dying, as they are accustomed to do when they 
have time, 

The conversation soon became general, and 
each one began to tell his little yarn. That of 
Manuel Diaz was very much applauded. This 
disciple of Nimrod stated that having once 
waited many long hours in ambush at the foot of 
a cedar, he was already beginning to despair of 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 25! 


getting a shot at anything because the bark- 
ing of the dogs sounded very far away, when 
suddenly he saw a handsome stag come out of 
a near-by thicket. With the quick decision of 
the trained hunter, he aimed, fired and killed it. 
After this exploit, Manuel settled himself to 
await the arrival of some one of his companions 
to help him put the animal on his horse, which 
he had left a short distance away on the other 
side of a small stream. After a little, a country- 
man appeared, who was willing to lend a hand to 
the fortunate huntsman. Taking the deer be- 
tween them by the feet, they carried it to the 
bank of the stream, which was quite deep. There 
they stopped, and finding it impossible to pass 
the obstacle with the animal on their backs, they 
devised the plan of swinging it back and forth, 
so that with this impulse they might toss it to 
the other bank. This they did. One, two, three 
—zip! The deer flew through the air and fell 
on the other side. But, Oh, marvel! What a 
portent! Scarcely did it touch the ground, when, 
like Anteus, recovering new strength on contact 
with Mother Earth, it began to run as if it had 
never been dead. ) 

Feliciano was the only one who gave credit to 
the singular adventure of Manuel Diaz. Sin- 
cerely convinced, he assured us that the deer must 
have been bewitched or possessed of a devil, be- 
cause there are well-known cases in which ma- 
lignant spirits have taken certain animals as a 
dwelling-place for their perverse souls. 


252 CUENTOS TICOS 


“T don’t believe it,’ replied Manuel Diaz. 
“When has anyone seen an animal possessed 
of a devil?” 

“Tt does not have to be seen,’ exclaimed an 
amateurish hunter, who was much more learned 
in other matters than in the chase, joining in the 
discussion. ‘Feliciano has much reason in say- 
ing so, and in support of his thesis I can cite no 
less a person than Saint Luke, who relates that 
Jesus cast out certain demons from the body of 
an unfortunate man and transferred them to a_ 
herd of swine, which instantly went mad. By 
this fact it is confirmed that there is nothing new 
under the sun and that, much before the transfu- 
sion of blood was discovered, that of demons was 
already practised. In addition to this irrefutable 
example, history is full of similar ones, and the 
annals of the Inquisition could instruct us 
minutely on this point. It is well known that 
evil spirits show a marked predilection for people 
and particularly for the delicate bodies of nuns, 
there being frequent cases during the Middle 
Ages in which entire convents of pious women 
have fallen under their dominion. A like thing | 
happened in the sixteenth and seventeenth cen- 
turies to the Ursuline nuns of Aix, Lille and 
Loudun; and without going farther, in the nine- 
teenth century itself, an entire village, that of 
Morzina in Savoy, has been known to be pos- 
sessed of the spirit of Satan. But this prefer- 
ence, certainly quite explicable, does not in any 
way exclude the diabolical possession of irra- 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 253 


tional beings. I remember that when I was a 
child I heard a very pious and respectable: lady 
affirm that a certain pig called Pompey, that 
knew how. to count and tell the age of people, 
was purely and simply an animal possessed of a 
devil.”’ 

“IT know the history of some cats which suf- 
fered from the same misfortune,” said another of 
the hunters, “but I won’t tell it, because we have 
to get up very early to-morrow morning and it is 
bed time already.” 

“Tell it, tell it,’ exclaimed various voices. 

“T will consent to gratify you on condition 
that we go straight to bed afterwards, for I am 
dead tired.”’ 

The narrator, after throwing away the butt 
of the cigar which he was smoking, said as fol- 
lows: 

“My father had a fellow scholar in Latin and 
philosophy, a certain Patrocinio Martinez, who, 
as it seemed, was not born for great things. He 
had a sufficient willingness to learn, but his lazi- 
ness was superior to his desire for knowledge. 
The professor, who was imbued with Voltairian 
ideas, said to him one day, very ironically—‘My 
friend, you are so stupid that you will do only 
for a priest.’ This sprightly saying did not fall 
into a torn sack; the student took orders and be- 
- came one of those ignorant priests, yet more vir- 
tuous and continent than the generality of the 
clergy of those times, who only seemed to heed 
the precept ‘increase and multiply yourselves.’ 


254 CUENTOS TICOS 


“Little sensible by nature to the temptations, 
his resistance to which have made Saint Anthony 
a model so difficult of imitation, he was less rigid 
in regard to the worship of the golden calf. The 
generosity of the faithful permitted him to fill 
his money box with onzas, cuartas and escudos.* 
Money that came to his hands did not again see 
the light of the sun, and as robbers caused him 
a deer-like fear he had the house full of secret 
and hidden places unknown even to his house- 
keeper, depository of his confidence in everything 
else. 

“When he grew old and was nearing his 
dotage, he developed a mania for raising cats. 
He was so extremely fond of them that he was 
never without half a dozen. of the creatures, and 
he called them nothing but ‘my sons’ and ‘my 
heirs,’ which did not greatly please the house- 
keeper, who secretly considered herself the 
only heir to the priest’s fortune, because he 
had no other relative than a niece, a spinster, 
against whom she took good care to prejudice 
him so that they neither saw nor heard from 
each other. Things did not turn out, however, in 
accordance with the desires of the lady, for the 
cholera epidemic of 1856 took her prematurely 
to a better life. The curate also fell sick of it but 
he managed to pull through, thanks chiefly to 
the care of his niece who, charitably forgetting 
past offences, came to his aid at the first news of 
his sickness... When the danger was passed uncle 


*Costa Rican gold coins in circulation some thirty or forty years 
ago. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 255 


and niece continued living together, and although 
the priest treated her well, she thought she no- 
ticed in him a certain coldness which she could 
not explain and which finally she attributed to 
the old man’s doting fondness for cats. From 
that moment there was born in her soul a resolu- 
tion to get rid of them; but how was she to do 
it, considering that they were the loved ones of 
her uncle? To give them poison was perilous 
not only on account of the difficulty of explaining 
their death, but also from the ease’ with which 
the victims could be replaced. No, this was not 
the way to reach the desired end. The proper 
way was to extirpate the evil at the root, to drag 
out from the very soul of the priest this cattish 
passion which enslaved him, a thing little less 
than impossible for one who did not have the 
jesuitical craft of an Escobar y Mendoza,* or 
the astuteness of a Talleyrand. Nevertheless, as 
there is hidden in the heart of every woman a 
diplomatic cunning, the niece succeeded in gain- 
ing her end with a stratagem, a veritable master- 
piece of womanly acumen. 

“In the house of the priest, always heretofore 
so quiet, disturbances began to be heard with an 
accompaniment of mewingss and caterwaulings as 
though the seven cats of his worship were deliv- 
ered over to sinful amusements. But these rows 
occurred only in the absence of Don Patrocinio 
when the doors and windows were closed. At 
the same time the niece was as sweet as honey 


*A famous Spanish Jesuit. 


256 CUENTOS TICOS 


with the pussies, in the presence of her uncle; yet 
they, with the ingratitude characteristic of their 
race, did not for that reason depart from the 
aversion with which they had regarded her from 
the beginning. Every time that the curate re- 
turned from the street he found her laughing, 
with her eyes sparkling mischievously, and ap- 
plauding some prank of the interesting little ani- 
mals. To give credit to her accounts they lacked 
only the gift of speech, for they did things which 
left her open-mouthed with admiration, doubting 
that these could be irrational beings. The priest 
listened with pleasure to the tales of his niece. 
Everything relating to his protégés interested him 
greatly, and even the no slight damage that they 
caused in the house made him laugh. What then 
must have been his surprise when, on coming 
from saying mass one morning, he found the 
spinster much excited, crossing herself and de- 
claring with great consternation that his adored 
cats were possessed of devils. When the surprise 
of the first moment had passed he flew into a 
passion and ordered her to be silent, calling her 
crazy, and other pretty things. 

“““May God forgive me,’ she replied very hum- 
bly, ‘but it is as true as that you are a saint.’ 
This had more effect on Don Patrocinio, who con- 
sented to listen to the reasons which his niece 
had for believing in the demoniacal possession 
of the cats. The spinster then told him that they 
could not hear the names of sacred persons and 
things without behaving like beings under the 


' STORIES OF COSTA RICA 257 


power of Satan, which could in no way be 
natural. 

““Ts it possible,’ exclaimed the priest, much 
alarmed. 

“*Say a benediction before them and you will 
see.’ 

“Don Patrocinio could not be convinced of 
what his niece affirmed with so much tenacity, 
nevertheless when he reflected, while waiting for 
the breakfast hour, he began to remember some 
of the extraordinary and uncanny actions of the 
cats, and this gave him something to think about. 
In fact it was neither logical nor sensible to sup- 
pose that mere animals could have so much 
genius and talent. | | 

“The desired hour came at last, and the priest 
seated himself at the table in front of a fried 
egg on an old-fashioned earthen-ware plate. Of 
the seven cats three were missing, but they were 
not long in coming, and all arranged themselves 
about their ‘master, as was their custom, with 
their pupils fixed on him in the hope of some little 
mouthful. Then Don Patrocinio rose up and 
after crossing himself, commenced to pray in a 
loud voice: 

““Praised and blessed be the most. holy 
Sarca—, but he said no more, because he 
stopped in wonder at the prodigious effect which 
these words had on the pussies. It was a wild 
flight, a general ‘save himself who can.’ -Those 
that could not get out of the door jumped 
through the window. ‘The seven disappeared in 
the twinkling of an eye. | 


258 CUENTOS TICOS 


“*Are you convinced now?’ cried the niece 
from the doorway. 

“The priest, horrified, murmured between his 
teeth some Latin phrases: 

“*Exi, anathema, non remaneas nec absconda- 
ris in ulla compagine membrorum—’ There he 
stopped, for he could not remember the rest of 
the exorcism. For three days the poor man 
walked about with bowed head, searching for the 
solution of the problem. Several times he re- 
peated the experiment of saying a benediction 
before the cats, but always with the same bad 
result. 

“Finally he decided to pronounce the sentence, 
and one afternoon the sacristan hung all the 
seven, with the aid of the spinster, who could 
hardly contain herself for joy. 

“Some years afterward the priest died of a 
stroke of apoplexy,-carrying to the tomb his sor- 
row for the loss of his beloved cats, and the secret 
of his treasure, which the niece wore herself out 
in searching for, but in vain. | 

“When she in her turn was at death’s door, it 
seems that she confessed, contritely, to relieve 
her conscience, that she had inspired the poor ani- 
mals with that horror of the Most Holy One by 
invoking his name at the same time that she 
flogged them without mercy.” 


As it was told to me, thus I tell it to you, dear 
reader. 


EL CLAVEL. 
(THE PINK. ) 


MILIA awoke at daybreak, feverish and 
F exnausted She had had no rest during 

the night, turning over in her bed and not 
losing consciousness for an instant, prisoner of a 
great mental agitation. Her head ached, her ears 
buzzed and her skin was feverish. She made ef- 
forts of will to fall asleep, but could not succeed 
in doing so. One single thought assaulted her 
with exasperating tenacity, planting itself deep in 
her brain and driving out all others. Tired of 
struggling she finally yielded herself up con- 
quered by the enslaving idea. Then there 
reigned in her mind the fascinating person of 
Carlos Gutierrez. It was a continuous struggle, 
a siege that she had tried in. vain to withstand, 
guided by her good judgment and her native seri- 
ousness which put her on guard against an affair 
in every way dangerous. The inequality of birth 
and position between them was too great for an 
alliance to be possible. Emilia comprehended it 
too well with her clear discernment and short but 
certain experience of social distinctions, acquired 


259 


260 CUENTOS TICOS 


by contact with her companions in the col- 
lege. 

On the other hand, she was not the woman to 
lend herself to amorous pastimes and frivolities. 
Neither her dignity nor her pride would tolerate 
it. It is true that Carlos seemed sincere, but how- 
ever he might be, the prudent course for the pres- 
ent was to maintain the most absolute reserve and 
to make no sign that could reveal to the young 
man the state of her mind. 

These and other very discreet thoughts ran_ 
through her well-balanced little head; but no 
sooner had her heart seized the baton, than her 
good resolves vanished instantly, and her prudent 
reflections changed to flattering fancies which 
made the secret longing of her soul seem possible 
of attainment. Through the prism of her illusions 
the obstacles that separated her from Carlos ap- 
peared less insurmountable than cold reason 
would represent them; for if he belonged to an 
aristocratic and proud family she had no cause to 
be ashamed of her own, modest it is true, but of a 
respectability without blemish. Her father was 
considered the leading citizen of the village and 
was a wealthy man, things which were not in the 
least to be despised. Moreover, on her mother’s 
side she was related by marriage to people of 
consequence. Passing from these general consider- 
ations to those which directly concerned her per- 
son, she could not deny that she felt satisfied with 
herself. There was no doubt that she was pretty. 
Her mirror proved that beyond question, as also 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 261 


did the admiring glances of the men who always 
turned repeatedly to look as she passed, irresist- 
ibly attracted by her charm. Judging with im- 
partiality she considered herself intelligent and 
of pleasing manners; she felt that she had the 
power to rise to a higher plane in the social scale 
than the one she had until then occupied; yet 
more than all she was flattered by one recollec- 
tion, the most pleasing to her feminine vanity, 
which was, so to speak, the decisive proof, the 
ratification of her beauty. 

Some months before she had been in the na- 
tional theatre of San José, with the object of : 
seeing the theatre and hearing an opera company 
of considerable fame. Much embarrassed by the 
novelty of the spectacle and the brilliancy of the 
audience, she had been careful to remain in 
the rear of the box, in spite of the request of her 
friends who accompanied her; nevertheless many 
scrutinizing opera glasses searched her out even 
there, and remained fixed on her a long while. 
During an intermission they went out to take a 
turn in the corridors and the foyer, where her 
presence caused a ripple of curiosity and admira- 
tion among the spectators. 

Afterwards she heard that many persons had 
inquired about the beautiful unknown. This 
revelation of the power of her attractions awoke 
in her the slumbering vanity of a pretty woman, 
and caused to spring up in her soul the secret 
desire for new triumphs. Her father, however, 
although sufficiently rich to live comfortably, 


262 CUENTOS TICOS 


even luxuriously, in the capital, never cared to 
leave the place of his birth, where he was es- 
teemed and liked and was a person of importance. 
She and her mother would have preferred to 
move to San José, the city which to them seemed 
to be the emporium of pleasure, the little Paris 
of which all those who have never gone out of ~ 
our little fatherland dream. 

It had been hard for Emilia to accustom herself 
to country life after passing four years in the capi- 
tal attending the “Higher College for Sefioritas,” 
where she had received very careful instruction 
which would probably prove more prejudicial 
than helpful in case she should marry a man of 
her own station, on whom she would be inclined 
to look as an inferior, the inevitable result of an 
unequal education. She thus foresaw it and doubt- 
less this was the reason why she decidedly re- 
fused the best catches of the village who made 
haste to pay court to her on her return to the 
paternal roof. Rather arrogant and proud, she 
took little pleasure in their friendship because 
she had become unused to rustic crudeness, which 
now annoyed her. Thus it was that she culti- 
vated friendly relations with a half dozen persons 
who were the social cream of the village. She 
was very seldom seen on the street or at her win- 
dow, and although very fond of reading, novels 
made very little impression on her tranquil, self- 
contained and peaceful imagination, for she was 
not romantic. Aside from a few harmless flirta- 
tions during the time that she lived in San José at 








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THE FOYER OF THE NATIONAL THEATRE | 





STORIES OF COSTA RICA 2605 


the house of a relative, she had given ear to no 
suit, much less had been in love with any one, 
until the day on which she saw Carlos Gutierrez 
for the first time. 

The family of this young man owned a coffee 
hacienda” in the vicinity of the village, where each 
year they spent a season of three months. The 
fathers of Emilia and Carlos had known each 
other for a long time as proprietors of adjoining 
lands, and never failed to visit each other once or 
twice during the summer. Thus some neighborly 
intercourse had sprung up between the wives of 
both, and later on between Emilia and Hortensia, 
the sister of Carlos. The latter Emilia had never 
seen until recently, as he had been in Germany for 
many years studying medicine. What a deep im- 
pression the day on which she met him, while pay- 
ing a visit to the hacienda, made on her! From. 
the first moment she felt herself conquered, sub- 
jugated by his graceful bearing and his frank 
and cordial manners. Making calls ordinarily 
wearied her, but that day she wished that her 
mother’s visit might never end, and in spite of 
the fact that it was long, as her mother’s usually 
were, it seemed very short. Moreover it was pro- 
longed a while because Hortensia and Carlos 
took the trouble to accompany them some distance 
on their road until they were near the village. 

Afterwards she had seen the young doctor 
rather frequently; on Sunday when she came 
out from mass, or when he was passing her house 
on horseback going to the hacienda, or return- 


*An estate or plantation, 


266 CUENTOS TICOS 


ing to the city, since it was his custom to come 
on Saturday afternoon and return to his business 
early on Monday. What a fine way he had of 
saluting, how gracefully and elegantly he took off 
his hat! It must be that princes uncovered in 
that manner. At various times he stopped to talk 
with her and her mother, always leaving them 
charmed with the nobleness of his address. 

Emilia noticed from the first day that Carlos 
looked at her with interest. At each new meeting 
this feeling was more pronounced; notwithstand-_ 
ing, she kept from doing or saying anything that 
could make it evident that she had noticed it. A 
little after this famous visit she received an invi- 
tation from Hortensia to eat melcochas* with 
them. Before deciding to accept it she hesitated 
a good deal, because she realized the danger of 
abandoning herself to the budding inclination 
which was stirring in her breast. At length, in 
spite of the counsels of prudence, deceiving 
herself by sophisms and subtle arguments, she 
allowed herself to be carried by the imperious 
desire of seeing Carlos. 

When she arrived at the hacienda she found a 
good many people there, on account of its being 
the birthday of Hortensia. In addition to several 
families who were spending the summer on 
neighboring estates, a number of young friends, 
all very elegant, had come by coach from San 
José. Emilia, who was not prepared for such an 
occasion, felt rather ashamed in the presence of 


*A confection much resembling molasses candy. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 267 


such elegant, haughty dames, who looked at her 
with a mocking curiosity without speaking, and 
if it had not been for the kindness of Carlos, who 
consoled her with caricatures of the impertinences 
of those ladies, she would have passed an even 
more disagreeable time; the young man, however, 
paid her marked attention, waiting on her and 
courting her with marked preference, which gave 
cause for whisperings and malicious gossiping. 
After refreshments, which were served under a 
wide spreading higueron,* the young ladies and 
the gallants of San José began to romp like chil- 
dren much to the surprise of Emilia, who was not 
yet familiar with the license that people of high 
position are accustomed to take on such occasions. 
When they were tired of running and acting like 
mad creatures, they decided to return to the 
house where dinner was awaiting them. When 
that was over they improvised a merry dance, 
which was the conclusion of the festival. 

Emilia, who danced poorly was unwilling 
to yield to the requests of Carlos to dance with 
him, for she was not the woman to consent 
to appear at a disadvantage before those rivals 
whose waltzing was a dream. In this and many 
other things they outshone her; it was useless to 
deny it. On the other hand, not one of them 
was so pretty as she. It might not be modest to 
think thus, but the truth before everything. About 
ten o’clock the party broke up, at the instance of 
the mammas, who, with much difficulty, managed 


*Giant fig-tree. A splendid shade tree of the tropics. 


268 CUENTOS TICOS 


to gather their flocks and put them in the carriages 
after the interminable chattering and_ kiss- 
ing of leavetaking. The families living on neigh- 
boring haciendas departed on horseback. Only 
Emilia, whose home was so close by, returned on 
foot. Her father had come for her, but Carlos 
wished by all means to go with her to her house. 

The recollection of that nocturnal walk, in 
company with the young man, moved her deeply. 
Even the smallest details had engraved them- 
selves on her memory and were still there palpi- 
tating with life. A faint light came down from. 
the star-spangled sky, permitting them to see 
merely the white surface of the road; the locusts 
and other insects chirped and hummed in the 
ditches, and the glowworms and fireflies danced in 
the obscurity, which was impregnated with the 
voluptuous breath of slumbering flowers. Her 
father led the way and showed them the bad 
places. She and Carlos followed, arm in arm, 
silent and subdued on finding themselves so near 
each other in the mystery of the night which gave 
them a disturbing feeling of complete solitude. 
Near a little bridge which they had to cross, they 
saw a pair, also arm in arm, disappear in the 
darkness of a grove of trees. 

“They must be lovers,” murmured Carlos in 
her ear. ‘Happy man,” he added with a sigh. 
She said nothing, but in her breast an impas- 
sioned voice replied very softly, “Happy girl.” 

All this had happened a week before, and since — 
then Emilia had had no rest nor another thought. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 269 


Things had come to such a pass that a solution of 
some kind was necessary; if she admitted the fact 
that Carlos was paying court to her it was im- 
perative that he make a clear and final declaration 
of his purpose; or if not, that she must cut off all 
intercourse with him and his family, in order to 
repair the harm while there was yet time. The 
difficulty lay in knowing which of these two 
courses was the most proper and suitable. This di- 
lemma _ had caused to be born in the soul of Emilia 
an incessant conflict which held her in suspense 
and robbed her of sleep. Already the evening, 
when after much reflection she had resolved to 
follow the counsels of sane reason, had seen all 
her good purposes weaken on the receipt of a note 
from Hortensia inviting her to a horseback ex- 
cursion for the following day. 

Nevertheless prudence triumphed, and she had 
sorrowfully declined the invitation, pleading bad 
health, which the weariness that was painted on 
her face made to seem credible. Unfortunately 
Carlos passed by in the afternoon at the moment 
when she was going casually to her window. But 
who could say with certainty that the coincidence 
was all from chance? She herself did not know 
nor could she have given an exact account of how 
she went there; mechanically may be, perhaps im- 
pelled in spite of herself by an irresistible desire. 
The young doctor talked to her of the projected 
excursion, showing his opposition visibly when 
he heard that Emilia would not take part in it. 
He was insistent in his demands that she change 


270 CUENTOS TICOS 


her mind, and finally she promised him that she 
would go if she should feel better on the follow- 
ing morning; to inform him of which they agreed 
to see each other on coming out from mass, 
“Don’t worry,” he said to her coaxingly, as he 
was leaving. “If you are sick, [ll cure you.” 
Hardly had the young man gone on his way 
when Emilia felt humiliated and angry with her- 
self. Was it that she had so little will and 
strength of character that she could not resist the 
fascination that this man exercised over her? 
Hidden behind a window she watched him go 
away, sitting well on his spirited horse, and her 
heart went after him. But the idea that perhaps 
he considered her a mere summer pastime, a 
trinket that is thrown away when it amuses no 
more, awoke in her the old plebeian hatred of the 
aristocrat, an inexorable feeling made up of 
humiliation and envy. Notwithstanding that this 
supposition was intolerable to her self-esteem, 
there was still another much more unbearable; 
yet the possibility of such an outrageous thing 
she did not wish even to consider. Her whole 
being protested against it. Carlos, a gentleman 
so high-minded and honorable, was incapable of 
entertaining such a project. Nevertheless, who 
can trust in men when even those who seem most 
chivalrous have no scruple in shamefully de- 
ceiving a poor woman? The recent misfortune 
of a very beautiful cousin of hers, who had lost 
her honor through having believed in the prom- 
ises of a young man belonging to the very flower 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 27.t 


of San José society, was a good proof that no one 
is to be trusted. 

From time to time an internal voice interrupted 
her, mockingly, by saying that all this philosophy 
lacked point considering that Carlos had not once 
said that he loved her. This was all true enough, 
yet it was not less true that he made it plain 
by a thousand exquisite attentions and a studied 
reticence as significant as the most frank declara- 
tion. Moreover that could not now be long in 
coming. Emilia foresaw it; many times she had 
seen it trembling on Carlos’s lips, awaiting mere- 
ly a glance or a gesture on her part; but she, far 
from calling it forth, had always managed to 
elude it. 

This multitude of opposing ideas, born of her 
feeling of self-respect and the love which Carlos 
inspired in her, had been the cause of her sleep- 
lessness of the night before. For all that she 
racked her brains in search of a fit solution of the 
problem she had been able to decide on none; 
rather, the confusion of her mind was constantly 
increasing. Finally she decided to get up. As 
she put her feet on the floor she felt a giddiness 
and a violent pain in her head, a consequence of — 
the excited state of her nervous system. A cold 
bath was necessary to calm her. With veritable 
delight Emilia put her burning hands into the 
soothing water, at contact with which she could 
feel that the fever parching her skin was growing 
less. 

Suddenly, without effort, she saw the situation 


272 CUENTOS TICOS 


clearly. She could receive no courtship from 
Carlos unless he should make known clearly and 
definitely the intention of making her his wife. 
This her honor and the circumstances in which 
they both were placed required. Therefore the 
beginning of the intimacy that had been estab- 
lished between them must cease at once, together — 
with her visits to the hacienda, so as to oblige 
him to come to her house in search of her if he — 
really esteemed and cared for her sufficiently to 
marry her in spite of the inequality of birth. 

Having come to this decision, Emilia quickly 
began her toilet, for it was nearly the hour for 
the only mass that was celebrated in the village. 
While she was combing before her mirror, the 
wavy and abundant hair, which crowned her brow 
like a helmet of polished ebony, she smiled 
with satisfaction at the distinction of her face. 
Her velvety black eyes seemed larger than ever 
in the midst of the shadows that sleeplessness and 
fatigue had placed about them. Her small mouth 
with its red and rather full lips looked as tempting 
as some ripe fruit beneath her fine straight nose. 
She was truly beautiful, not so much by reason of 
classic lines, but rather the delightful harmony 
of every part, the smooth freshness of the skin 
and the smallness of the ears of irreproachable 
form. | 

It cannot be positively stated that Emilia heard 
the mass with devotion. The light colored cos- 
tume of Hortensia, kneeling near the principal 
altar, distracted her and reminded her constantly 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 273 


of things that do not harmonize with the abstrac- 
tion needful in attending divine service. She felt 
that her resolution was not now so firm and began 
to fear the moment of her interview with Carlos 
who surely would try to dissuade her from her 
purpose. This indeed he did. He was awaiting 











A VILLACE CHURCH 


her on the church steps, and his first words 
were to declare that, if she stayed at home neither 
would he go to the picnic. Afterwards Hortensia 
came up to unite her petitions with those of 
Carlos, and even his mother herself took a hand in 
the matter, assuring her that her indisposition 
was of no consequence since it was no more than 


| 274 CUENTOS TICOS 


a little headache which would be cured by the 
air and exercise. Everything was _ conspiring 
against her. It was a fatality before which she 
must bow. 

The plaza of the village had been decided on as 
the meeting place. As soon as the invited com- 
pany had arrived, they all set out together for | 
their destination, a very picturesque spot situated 
on the bank of a river some three hours distant on 
horseback. Emilia rode along rather taciturn at 
seeing herself thus overruled in her resolution. 
Carlos placed himself at her side and did not leave 
her during the whole ride, repeatedly praising her 
for the skill with which she managed her horse, 
and saying many endearing and extravagant 
things which soon dispelled her ill-humor. 

The road, rough and stony, was quite deserted, 
as it was Sunday. Here and there they passed a 
miserable hut, almost always with door closed in 
the absence of its occupants who had gone to the 
neighboring village to hear mass, to buy, and 
above all to take their little drams. The dogs 
-which had stayed to watch it barked at the 
trampling of the horses and ran after them until 
a lash from a whip made them turn back howling. 
Upon the trees of the hedges the purple orchids 
unfolded their amethyst vestments, and the 
branches of the coffee trees hung drooping and 
withered from the recent picking and the rigor of 
the dry season. The pastures were getting yel- 
low, completely shorn of green things, and the 
unhappy cattle maintained a fruitless struggle 


“STORIES OF COSTA RICA 275, 


searching for fresh blades of grass to assuage the 
pangs of hunger. The thirsty earth was awaiting 
with impatience the coming of the rainy season. 

They halted at the edge of a clear crystalline 
stream in the cool shade of a wide-spreading tree. 
The horses drank eagerly, and the men dis- 
mounted to overlook the ladies’ saddles, tighten- 
ing the cinch of one, adjusting the stirrup of 
another. Perhaps there was also some stealthy 
pressing of small, well-shod feet, although we 
dare not affirm it positively not having seen it, as 
neither did Hortensia’s aunt, a lady of some 
forty years who played the ungrateful part of 
duenna. 

The descent to the river was difficult and dan- 
gerous, along a steep trail shut in by thorny bram- 
bles, which, with much discourtesy plucked at the 
skirts and hats of the ladies. It was finally ac- 
complished without mishap, in the midst of much 
laughter and many feminine exclamations and 
little shrieks of terror more feigned than real. 
Below, the river formed a pool at the foot of an 
enormous perpendicular cliff which raised itself 
from the opposite shore like a cyclopean wall, 
crowned with trees whose branches projected 
over the depths below and shaded them. A little 
beyond, the waters rushed down the -sharp 
descent of the river-bed boiling among the round 
shining rocks that tried to block the way. 

On alittle sandy beach, covered as by an 
awning with overspreading branches, breakfast, 
which had been brought ahead of them by the 


276 CUENTOS TICOS 


men servants, was awaiting them. Since appetites 
were keen, all hailed it with enthusiasm. From 
the water, where they had been placed to cool, 
emerged bottles of wine and beer; from the saddle 
bags came fried chickens, ham, plump roasts of 
beef, and preserves, all very nicely wrapped up in 
plantain leaves, which have the virtue of giving 
to eatables a delicious flavor. All seated them- 
selves as best they could, with exquisite discom- 
fort, the gentlemeiu gallantly serving the ladies. 
As there was more than one pair of lovers the 
necessity and fitness of the aunt’s respectable 
presence is explained, even though it were but to 
comply with the requisites of propriety. 

When their appetites had been satisfied the 
company broke up little by little into small groups 
or isolated couples. Emilia did not care to be 
separated from the lady who chaperoned the 
young people, for she was unwilling to give a 
chance for more courting on the part of Carlos. 
He, who surely was expecting something differ- 
ent, was quite put out, going away and sitting 
down on a rock. He stayed there some time, 
looking mournfully at the movements of the water 
and the flittings of the birds that came to bathe 
and drink, though frightened by the unaccus- 
tomed presence of people in that spot ordinarily so 
peaceful. Finally, wearying of being alone, he 
again joined the group presided over by his aunt, 
which was by far the most serious of all. In spite 
of his bad humor he could not but admire Emilia, 
truly adorable in that rustic setting, which suited 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 277 


wonderfully well the character of her ripe beauty 
which if it lacked that aristocratic elegance, the 
fruit of a series of cultured generations, was not 
for that reason less charming. Some of the girls 
set out to search for flowers and plants while 
Hortensia directed the opening of some jars of 
preserved fruits and other dainties for luncheon. 
A very young and enterprising gentleman stirred 
up quite an excitement by saying that he had dis- 
covered grains of gold in the sand of the river, 
and walked from group to group showing a 
handful of it in which some little flakes could 
really be seen shining like diminutive spangles. 
The March sun* justified its reputation by main- 
taining a suffocating temperature in spite of the. 
shade and coolness of the river. 

Carlos, after hovering a while near Emilia, 
who always kept close by the aunt, finally seated 
himself at her side. He was conversing with her 
when Hortensia came up to offer them some 
grapes and peaches. She was accompanied by a 
fastidious young lady who used rouge too 
freely, and was accustomed to look with friendly 
eyes on the young doctor. He did not care to 
take anything that his sister offered him. Then 
her companion interposed with a malicious air, 
offering in her turn some blackberries on the stem 
which she herself had just picked. At the same 
time she said, addressing Hortensia: 

“You will see that he won’t say no to me, be- 
cause these are wild and thorny fruits like those 


*March is usually the hottest month of the year in Costa Rica. 


278 CUENTOS TICOS 


which your brother is so fond of.” Emilia under- 
stood the impertinence, and her cheeks flushed 
with anger. 

“You are right,” replied Carlos, accepting 
them, “I like everything that is natural, and that — 
is why the roses Emilia has*in her cheeks seem 
so beautiful to me.” The reply was worthy of the © 
attack, and without waiting for a second thrust, 
the young lady of the rouge went away after 
Hortensia who, to hide the laughter that was 
struggling within her, had departed almost on a 
run. 

When the sun was well down they began to 
think of returning. Then, while the men were 
superintending the preparations for the march, 
the women did a little stealthly retouching with 
the aid of small hand-mirrors and other pocket 
utensils. Emilia, who was unacquainted with 
these refinements, began to watch the comings 
and goings of a little bird that attracted her 
attention. | 

“What a beautiful orchid!’ she exclaimed 
suddenly, pointing to a lofty branch that pro- 
jected over the river. 

“Charming, beautiful, divine!” replied various 
feminine voices. 

“Would you like to have it?” inquired the voice 
of Carlos behind Emilia. 

“T should be delighted;—but it is impossi- 
ble—’’she added, after surveying the branch 
which belonged to one of the trees that crowned 
the cliff on the opposite shore. 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 279 


“T like to conquer impossibilities,” replied the 
young man, drawing his revolver and aiming at 
the capricious flower. 

On seeing his action the group of girls dis- 
banded. Some fled away; others remained near 
by with their fingers in their ears. The sound of 
the shot reverberated in the deep valley, and the 
flower detached itself from its stem. 

“Bravo, Carlos!’ shouted the men who had 
come up at the sound of the report. The women 
clapped their hands. The rejoicing was short- 
lived however, because the elusive flower fell into 
the middle of the river. Without hesitating, Car- 
los, dressed as he was, plunged into the water and 
in two strokes was within reach of it. So unex- 
pected and swift was this action that none of 
those present had time to stop him. The young 
man was proudly returning now, swimming on his 
side with only one arm and holding the coveted 
flower out of the water with the other, but the 
spectators noticed that for all his efforts to reach 
the bank, he did not succeed. On the contrary, 
the current, which was very rapid beneath the 
deceitful calm of the surface, was little by little 
carrying him away. Nevertheless, nobody actu- 
ally noticed the peril in which the swimmer was 
until they saw him disappear among the rocks as 
he was swept along with terrifying swiftness by 
the water. A cry of terror broke forth from the 
lips of all, and a number of the companions of 
Carlos started on a run along the bank to aid him, 
without realizing the uselessness of what they 


280 CUENTOS TICOS 


were doing. Hortensia was on the point of faint- 
ing, and her aunt prayed and sobbed at the same 
time. Emilia, breathless and pale as death, fol- 
lowed the events of the drama with awful dread. 

“Saved! Saved!’ shouted the far-away voices 
of those who ran. In fact, he was now out of 
danger. An excellent swimmer, he had not lost 
for an instant the coolness indispensable for es- 
caping from the rocks against which the water 
hurled him with terrible violence. This struggle 
lasted but a few moments, which however seemed 
dreadfully long to the whole party. Luckily, he 
was able to sieze hold of a low-hanging branch 
that almost touched the water, and that saved his 
life. ) 

Some minutes afterwards Carlos reached the 
place where the ladies were, and without any 
affectation offered Emilia the orchid, which he had 
succeeded in saving by holding it in his teeth. 
She, trembling and panting, looked at him with 
dilated eyes, unable to utter a word; two large 
tears ran silently down her cheeks. A delirious 
joy succeeded her anguish and horror. Horten- 
sia, recovered from her faintness hung about his 
neck and kissed him repeatedly, laughing and cry- 
ing at the same time. The aunt, on her knees, 
was giving thanks to God. When the excitement 
had calmed down a little all began to talk at once, 
telling what he or she had seen or done, without 
anyone’s listening or paying attention to what the 
rest said. It cost Carlos some labor to free him- 
self from Hortensia’s arms so as to go and fall 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 281 


into those of his aunt and then into those of his 
men friends, who congratulated him with secret 
envy. 

The return home was very hurried out of con- 
sideration for the hero who was soaked to the 
skin; yet they were unable to get there before half 
past seven in the evening. Emilia stopped at her 
house as they passed. During the entire ride 
homeward she was very silent, deeply moved by 
the great peril to which the man whom she 
secretly loved had for her sake exposed himself. 
A multitude of pleasing thoughts surged through 
her mind. Her vanity and her affection were 
completely satisfied by the splendid proof of his 
love that Carlos had given before so many per- 
sons. In her inmost soul she was delighted at the 
downfall of that impertinent rival who had tried 
to humiliate her. How well and how opportunely 
Carlos had defended her! She still seemed to see 
the angry face of the poor girl and the mocking 
smile of Hortensia. How would she feel after 
what had happened? Furious, without doubt, for 
Carlos had risked his life merely to satisfy a 
small desire of the “wild and thorny fruit,” as 
the painted one had called her. | 

Her intention was now very far from avoiding 
Carlos, or even rejecting his gallantry. Her 
feelings had changed completely in the space of 
a few minutes, by reason of the gallant act of the 
young man, which had reached her very soul. 
Now she felt herself conquered, defenseless, will- 
ing to surrender at the first word; but he, either 


282 CUENTOS TICOS 


by design or from an exquisite sentiment of 
delicacy, did not make the least insinuation at a 
time when it was lawful to suppose her inde- 
pendence was overcome by gratitude. Only on 
taking leave of her it seemed that he had pressed 
her hand a little more than usual. 


The dashing swimming exploit of Carlos was 
much talked about by friends and others. Those 
who knew him well were of the opinion that the 
act was simply a sudden outburst of his impetu- 
ous and chivalrous character, without attributing 
to it greater importance; which does not mean 
that there was a lack of suppositions and cutting 
speeches unfavorable and derogatory to Emilia, 
which some uncharitable persons, especially the 
young lady of the blackberries, took pains to 
spread. 

The father as swell as the mother of Carlos re- 
proached him for his rashness and made prudent 
observations concerning his gallant attentions, 
which were compromising Emilia since they 
could not have matrimony as an object. 

“May God save us from your marrying that 
country wench. That would be too much!” ex- 
claimed Hortensia quite angrily. Carlos laughed 
and replied jestingly. At heart he was not in love 
with Emilia. It is true he liked her very much and 
her reserve was an incentive; but between that and 
making her his wife there was an impassable 
abyss for one who had such a deep-rooted respect 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 283 


_ for social distinctions as he had. To marry a girl 
who was not of his people, as he himself ex- 
pressed it, he considered an absurdity so great 
that it did not deserve the honor of discus- 
sion. 

On the following morning, when he was re- 
turning on horseback to San José, he saw Emilia 
at her window with the famous flower pinned to 
her breast, and in spite of the fact that he had 
decided to stop making love to her out of respect 
for the opinion of his parents, he could not resist 
the desire of seeing her and talking with her; yet 
the conversation, contrary to the hopes of Emilia, 
did not pass beyond ordinary trivialties. | Not 
without displeasure did she see him go away 
leaving unsaid the word which, before, she had 
feared and now vehemently desired. In the in- 
ternal strife that she had been sustaining the final 
triumph was on the side of vanity and love, which 
now raised themselves on the ruins of her pru- 
dence, her discretion, and even her self-esteem. 
Her desire at the moment was that all should 
know that Carlos loved her and that she recipro- 
cated, without caring what people might think 
or say. Only the interests of her passion con- 
cerned her now. 

In this morbid state of mind Emilia passed the 
week. At times she imagined that Carlos would 
choose to communicate with her by letter, and be- 
gan to look eagerly for the arrival of the mail, 
which each time brought her a new disappoint- 
ment. The total absence of news finally made 


284 CUENTOS TICOS 


her lose patience, for even Hortensia did not ap- 
pear in the village during all those days. 

The longed for Saturday arrived at last. Emilia 
arose early, did her various household tasks, 
dressed herself becomingly, and began to count 
the hours until five o’clock in the afternoon. Then 
she went to the window to await the passing of 
Carlos who was accustomed to go by a little after 
that hour. On her breast she wore the orchid 
which the young man had so valiantly conquered 
for her and which by great care she had pre- 
served, feeling sure that this detail would not pass 
unnoticed by him. She waited at first with com- 
parative calm; after half an hour she began to 
get impatient. Each horseman whom she saw 
approaching from a distance made her breast 
beat high with hope, only to be cast down and dis- 
appointed on learning that it was not the man of 
her desire. Night ‘fell without Carlos’s passing. 
What could it mean? Emilia grew desperate in 
making varied surmises. Had anything happened 
to him? Could he be ill? That was not prob- 
able, for she would have learned of it through 
some of the servants of the hacienda. It was 
more logical to think that it was due to some re- 
sentment which he felt toward her, caused by her 
former reserve and coldness. Now he wanted to 
make her furious also. Yes, it must be that. He 
surely had cause to think her over-proper and 
prudish. Well, who had started her into these 
fastidious worries about a gentleman of such 
high position as Carlos? 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 285 


She passed a very restless night, but on the fol- 
lowing day while she was going to mass, she 
consoled herself by thinking that there was as yet 
no reason to despair, for, looking at things 
calmly, it was quite possible that Carlos’s absence 
should be caused by some other circumstance 
which she could not divine. She looked all over 
the church for Hortensia, but could see only her 
mother and the aunt in the customary place. The 
hope, which she was cherishing, of seeing Carlos 
on going out was the cause of a new disillusion. 

“There is something wrong; there is some- 
thing wrong,” she kept repeating, as she noticed 
that Hortensia had not come to mass. 

She passed all of Sunday in great uneasiness, 
so that her surprise was most pleasant when she 
saw Hortensia arrive on Monday. She came in, 
while passing, to invite her to a solemn mass in 
the church of El Seftor de Esquipulas in the 
- neighboring village of Alajuelita, a service which 
she had vowed when Carlos was in such great 
peril. The ceremony was to take place on the 
following Thursday, with the whole family in at- 
tendance. On asking Hortensia the cause of her 
not being in the church the day before, the latter | 
told her that she had gone with her father to San 
José. From ‘there they had gone to take part in 
a large picnic which the young ladies of the 
Arburola family had given on Sunday, at their 
hacienda in Tres Rois, as a farewell to the sum- 
mer season. 

She held forth at length upon the details of the 


286 CUENTOS TICOS 


festival, which had been very fine, with a large 
number of invited friends who had gone from the 
capital in a special train. On hearing her men- 
tion the Arburola girls Emilia felt a vague un- 
easiness. She had observed that this name was 
mentioned quite often in the conversation of 
Hortensia who never lost a chance of dwelling 
on their beauty and elegance. As for. her, she 
knew them only by reputation. The two- 
sisters were held to be as coquettish and frivo- 
lous as they were beautiful, and any number 
of escapades, more or less scandalous, were re- 
lated about them. Carlos also was in the habit 
of talking a good deal about them, praising their 
brightness, their grace, and even their extrava- 
gances, saying that they had all the charm of 
Andalusian women. These circumstances, to 
which she had formerly paid no attention, now 
caused her an unfamiliar and painful sensation. 
With much skill and caution she began to draw 
out from Hortensia that during the picnic Carlos 
had been quite taken with one of them, Elvira, the 
prettier; and at each new detail she felt a sharp 
pain at her heart. It was the gnawing of jeal- 
ousy which she was experiencing for the first 
time. 


Sadly and mournfully Emilia heard the mass 
of thanksgiving, as she saw that the one chiefly 
interested was not there in spite of his promise 
to be present. Two musical celebrities from the 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 287 


capital took part in the service with soul-stirring 
songs, and poor Emilia was so downcast that she - 
was on the point of weeping during various pas- 
sages especially touching. Carlos arrived when 
the mass was half over. On seeing him Emilia 
could not hide her joy. He also was very affable 
with her, and during their return was prodigal 
of polite attentions. When they were once more 
in the village and about to separate, he said that 
such a pretty ceremony ought to have a fitting 
conclusion, and for that reason he hoped that all 
would come to dinner that afternoon at the 
hacienda. Emilia accepted the invitation, with 
the acquiescence of her mother, who for her part 
declined it, so that it was agreed that Hortensia 
and Carlos should come for Emilia in the after- 
noon. 

Never. was she happier than at that dinner. All 
her heart-burnings had disappeared like an ugly 
nightmare. The presence of Carlos caused her 
pains and doubts to vanish, as the rays of the 
rising sun dispel the shades of night. Contrary 
to her custom, she was merry and talkative, re- 
plying easily to the jests that were directed at her, 
and more than once with real wit. After 
coffee the elders became absorbed in the 
abstruse pleasure of Malilla.* Hortensia seated 
herself at the piano, while Emilia and Carlos went 
out on the balcony with the pretext of taking the 
air, really because they wished to be alone. The 
moon illumined the landscape with its white, sad 


*A game of cards resembling whist. 


288 CUENTOS TICOS 


light, which predisposes one to tenderness and to 
dreams. Both remained silent, contemplating the 
pale luminary which seemed to glide along among 
the little clouds, which at times obscured it. 

“T have to collect a debt from you,”’ said Carlos, 
after an interval of silence. 

“A debt ?” 

oe. 

“Might I know what it is?” 

“T have no objection to telling it; but first 
promise me that you will pay it.” | 
“With great pleasure, provided that I can.” 

“Everything that one wishes is possible.” 

“That is not accurate, for above our will is 
God.” 

“That is true, but the French say that what 
woman wishes God wishes.” 

“The French are very gallant.” 

“So they say, but let us return to the debt. 
Will you consent to pay it?” 

“First tell me what it is about.” 

“Well then, give me one of those flowers in 
exchange for that other of which you know.” 
Carlos indicated a bunch of pinks that she was 
wearing on her breast. She felt disconcerted by 
the unexpectedness of the request, and did not 
know what to answer. Through the windows of 
the drawing room the light notes of a waltz of 
Waldteuffel issued, which enfolded them in the 
voluptuousness of their gentle, dreamy rhythm. 
Carlos kept pleading in a low and supplicating 
voice, which made Emilia’s heart throb until she 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 289 


was almost choking. Conquered at last, she de- 
livered the coveted flower. He also kept her hand 
and kissed it passionately. Emilia felt herself 
growing faint at the touch of Carlos’s burning 
lips on her skin. The arrival of Hortensia put an 
end to the daring acts of her bold brother, who 
secretly began to curse at her inopportune arrival. 
She, however, who divined his feelings and knew 
why he had gone out, began to talk a lot of non- 
sense with the intention of making him rage. 
Emilia was too deeply moved to be able to talk, 
nor did she understand the questions of Hor- 
tensia. Carlos, who was furious, kept silent, 
twisting his mustache. The sound of voices and 
the trampling of horses interrupted the chatter of 
the. malicious sister. 

“Hortensia! Hortensia!’” cried several femi- 
nine voices from below. 

Hortensia went out on the balcony and recog- 
nizing those who had arrived; cried in her turn: 
“Elvira! Margarita! What a surprise;” and 
turning gleefully to Carlos, added, ‘There are the 
Arburolas.” . 

It was in fact they, who, taking advantage of 
the moonlight for a horseback ride, had come to 
see Hortensia in company with several mutual 
friends of both sexes. Carlos ran to receive them, 
and while he was going downstairs carrying 
Emilia’s pink in his hand, he put it in his button- 
hole with an unthinking movement. The commo- 
tion which the arrival of the Arburola girls and 
their retinue made in the house was not small. 


290 CUENTOS TICOS 


The card players dispersed, for the father also had 
to go down to receive such distinguished guests, 
while the mother awaited them in the drawing 
room, and the aunt went hurriedly to superintend 
the preparing of supper. | 

Emilia did not know where to stay, since now 
nobody took note of her insignificant person, in | 
the midst of so much coming and going. The 
exuberance and chattering of the two sisters and 
their friends completely quelled her good spirits 
and silenced her, and when, after some time, Hor- 
tensia remembered to present her to the new 
arrivals, she played the part of a child before its 
examiners, 

The Arburola girls were wild to dance. Noth-— 
ing daunted them, not even the inconvenience of 
their riding habits, which they held up as best 
they could. Hortensia struck up a_ waltz, 
Carlos set the example with Elvira, and all 
the others followed, except Emilia, who re- 
mained in one corner, her heart torn by jealousy, 
without being able to drag herself away from the 
spectacle which for her was torture. Pale with 
wrath, she watched her rival in Carlos’s arms, 
graceful, animated, and throbbing with pleasure, 
gliding about to the time of the music with the 
self-possession and elegance of a _high-bred 
woman. From time to time, as Carlos murmured 
something in her ear, she smiled and half closed 
her eyes with a refined coquetry. To complete the 
cruelty, the waltz which Hortensia was playing 
was the same one to whose music Carlos had 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 291 


kissed her hand, murmuring tender phrases which 
had gone to her very heart, the same phrases that 
he might now be saying to that detested Elvira, 
who was prettier than she; for it was useless to 
close one’s eyes to the evidence. That woman 
might be whatever one pleased, yet she was 
ideally beautiful, of a dangerous, perverse beauty, 
made up entirely of temptations. 

When the waltz was over Carlos conducted 
Elvira out to take the air, paying no more atten- 
tion to Emilia than if she had not existed. The 
poor girl in her corner was being consumed by 
jealousy, wrath and shame. Then came a 
moment when she could endure no more, and as 
- no one took notice of her she went to the dining- 
room in search of a glass of water, for she was 
suffocating. While she was drinking it, the 
sound of Carlos’s voice made her tremble. With 
infinite precaution she stole up to a window which 
opened on the balcony, and through which it 
seemed to her the voice had entered. 

“T assure you, Elvira,’ Carlos was saying at 
that moment, “that you have no reason to doubt 
my words.” | 

“As if men could ever tell the truth!” 

“Men perhaps; but I am not a man since I have 
known you.” 

“How delightful! And what are you now?” 

“Everything that you wish.” 

“A flatterer ?”’ 

“Not that by any means. Say rather an 
animal.” 


292 CUENTOS TICOS 


“An animal, because you say you care for me! 
Thanks for your gallantry. Do you know, that 
little quiet mouse is not ugly. You haven’t bad 
taste, Don Carlos; although that swimming affair 
seems rather exaggerated to me.” 

“Why don’t we talk of something else? Of 
what you promised me Sunday in Tres Rios, for 
example.” | 

“For your good behavior since then, is tha 
it?” : 

“T have already told you, Elvira —” 

“Keep quiet, for you are going to fib again. 
Who has given you that pink?” 

Carlos pulled out.the flower which he had for- 
gotten till then and replied with some embarrass- 
ment: “I don’t remember,—Hortensia perhaps.” 

“Don’t tell fibs. That pink is the brother of 
some others I have just seen.” 

“What an idea! You are always so sus- 
picious.” ; 

“Very well, I want to believe you this time. 
Give it to me then.” 

“With all the pleasure in life, but on one con- 
dition.” 

“Let us see.” 

Emilia could not hear the rest. The voices died 
away into an imperceptible murmur. Almost 
fainting, she seized the curtain tremulously so as 
not to fall. Suddenly the sound of a kiss went 
through her like an electric shock. Her strength 
returned, her bloodless cheeks flushed and her 
eyes sent forth sparks. Without taking account 


STORIES OF COSTA RICA 293 


of what she was going to do, obeying the impluse 
of an irresistible feeling, she violently opened the 
door which gave access to the balcony and planted 
herself in front of the enamoured pair, who with 
surprise saw her come out. Elvira kept play- 
ing ostentatiously with the pink, the same one 
that she had just given Carlos, and which had 
been as a seal of the covenant of love concluded 
between them that night. Emilia snatched it 
from her with a quick motion, and turning toward 
Carlos lashed him twice in the face with the 
flower, at the same time exclaiming in a hoarse 
voice: “Oh, you miserable creature!’ 

Elvira and Carlos remained mute. When they 
recovered from the surprise which the passionate 
outburst of the poor girl had caused them she was 
already far away. 

- “That little country girl is very bold,” mur- 
mured Elvira at last. 

Carlos tried to answer, but did not cited in 
saying a word. The blow from the pink stung 
him as though he had been lashed across the face 
with a whip. 




















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MAP OF « 








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PREPARED FROM OFFICIAL SOURCES, 

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PUBLISHERS - - * CLEVELAND 
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